To The Death
by Autobot Chromia
Summary: To the death can mean many things, a battle perhaps. How about working? Prowl has that problem, working himself to death. This SIC must learn that there is more outside his office door. Also, can he fix the hurt he has caused his brothers, survive an attack from a new enemy, and find out what Jazz means to him? This SIC has much to learn, very much indeed. Rated 'T' for safety.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Vorn- 83 years-year

These are the human equivalents to Cybertronian time.(I hope anyways) To a Cybertronian, these are only a second,a minute, a hour... so on and so forth. Also, this is pre-Earth by quite a few Vorns. Almost even Millenia(to them anyways) They are very young, even if the war has been raging for quite some time. Optimus is pushing 30, and Prowl and Jazz are in their early 20's. Bumblebee is a young youngling, a few upgrades away from being an adult (3-4 upgrades or between 12 and 14). Everyone else's ages can be found out with a little imagination, some common logic, and if all else fails, a you.

'That makes what, 15 done now? Plus the three finished before the Twin's inturruption, plus the 20 from yesterday, and the two I took with me on that 'break'. That makes...'

"Forty."Prowl answered aloud.

His voice was faint and tired. He did not slept in orns, nor had he fueled in that time. During that 'break' with Jazz, he had simply filled out more reports instead of refuling or resting like he was told to. He didn't include the other three day's data-pads. The finished work must have been somewhere in the hundreds. Prowl's systems were fighting themselves, but there was still more work to do.

Prowl tried to steady his hand as he reached for another pad. He had only been the SIC for two weeks now, and he had to prove to Optimus that he could do a good job.

"Frag."Prowl muttered as his shaking hand dropped the pad.

Why couldn't he stop trembling. Ah, that warning in his HUD telling him to refuel and recharge might have something to do with it. Prowl deleated it, and the four warnings following it. He scooped up the pad and a stylus that had rolled under the desk earlier. He began to fill out the new report, needed very soon. Optimus should be by later in the evening for it. Of cource, it was a simple pad. A little stasis nap couldn't hurt, and maybe a cube of energon before he-

"No."Prowl outwardly scolded himself.

He continued, even though now the words were swimming on the page. If he squinted the stilled a bit, so all was well. Prowl continued to fill out the pad on a recent attack. Now his vision not only blurred and swam, but actually dimmed. What the frag was going on? The darkness did not dimminish or lesson up, but instead took up more of his vision. It took up more and more until he saw nothing but darkness. He saw nothing but endless darkness, and heard nothing but that blessed silence.

OoOoOoOoO

Jazz went up the halls. He had just gotten off of his shift, and was ready to blow off some steam. He knew just how to do so to. He was going to get Prowl to take a break. So what if he was recently promoted? He was still a mech, and needed to eat and sleep like a normal mech. Prowl had never really taken care of himself, but Jazz knew for a fact that Prowl had not left his new office in almost a week.

"Prowler, open up."Jazz called out in a sing-songy voice as he knocked on the door.

There was no answer. Jazz rolled his optics.

"Ignorin' meh ain't gonna help ya none."Jazz stated.

He typed in the universal 'open' code, only to have it declined. He typed in an override code that he had stollen from Teletraan, and the door whooshed open. Jazz peered in, and was surprised to see that the room was rather dark. Only made sense as it was evening, but unless Prowl had finally gone to bed he should still be here.

Prowl did usually use the natural light from the window during the day to conserve energy in the 'Arc', but it was fraggin' night! Jazz flipped on a light, and squinted to try and filter some of it from his optics.

"Prowler? Ya in here?" Jazz asked as his optics returned to normal.

Prowl was face first on a desk, taking steady intakes.

"Sorry mech."Jazz said in a low voice. "Didn' know ya were takin' a nap."

Jazz went to turn of the light and leave, but something made him take a second look. Jazz hurried over to the desks side and got an even better look at the Datsun.

Prowl was not only face first on the desk, but on an onlined data-pad. An unfinished, onlined data-pad. The stulus had created a thick, permanent black line scrawling down the page, and lay on it's side in Prowl hand. Prowl's digits still curled in a way as if he were still holding the stylus. Jazz looked at the pad, and noticed that most of the words were illegible, or just squigles.

"Prowler?"Jazz asked, shaking the new SIC. "Wake up, mech."

Prowl made no movement, except for his servo to shift from the shaking and the stylus clatter to the floor. Jazz shook him a bit harder, trying to rouse the 'sleeping' mech. Prowl moaned a bit as in pain, and shifted as he slowly sat up in his seat. Jazz breathed a sigh of relief.

"Prowler, sorry for wakin' ya buddy. Ya kinda looked-"

Prowl flopped foward, optics shuttering again. He sighed out loudly, and slumped even more on the desk. Without a moments hesitation, Jazz turned the chair around and caught Prowl as he started to fall foward. He scooped the winged mech up bridal-style, and carried him right into med-bay.

"I swear to Primus I will shove a wrench up your aft, Sideswipe!" A voice shouted from an attached office. "The med-bay is not a place to avoid-"

Ratchet's voice trailed off as he noticed the Head of Special Operations carrying the newly promoted Second in Command. He sent his internal scanner over the mech who appeared to be in a deep recharge.

"Get his aft in a berth."Ratchet ordered, although he did not sound worried.

Jazz scuttled across the room to do so. Ratchet was soon by the berth, and slid an I.V drip into Prowl's servo. Jazz flinched a bit at the sight of the long needle, but was simply glad not to be on the receiving end. He hated needles, it just wasn't natural to have something like that shoved into your servo. If Primus had wanted it, he would have given a bot a needle in him when he was born.

"What's wrong with 'im?"Jazz asked after a steady,blue drip had started to flow into the Datsun's servo.

"He's in a stasis lock."Ratchet replied. "Stupid aft didn't take care of himself and his systems shut down. He's a lucky son of a Pylon, as it could be worse. He could have specific organs shut down."

"Is tha' happenin'?"Jazz asked.

"No, it's not or I would be actually worried for this idiot."Ratchet replied.

Jazz vented in relief. "Ah found 'im in his office. Thought 'e was takin' a stasis nap."

"He's going to need one when he wakes up. A good, long, 24 joor stasis nap." Ratchet huffed.

"Can Ah stay 'ere and wait for 'im ta wake up?" Jazz asked.

Ratchet shook his helm. "I'll call you."

"When?"

"When I feel like it."Ratchet returned, brandishing a wrench at the visored mech, who turned on his heels and ran from the med-bay as if the Unmaker himself was after him.

OoOoOoOoO

**Processor Status : Rebooting. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading Complete. Systems: Working. Operation: Weak. Recharge and Energon: Mandatory. Energy Levels: Less then 10 % Needed: Ene-**

Prowl canceled the next set of warnings before they could continue. He slowly onlined and unshuttered his optics. He didn't need them to tell him where he was though, the smell of anticeptic and medical grade energon told him that he was in the med-bay. A quick systems check told him that he was uninjured, but needing energy. He slowly sat up, feeling lightheaded and exhausted. What the frag had happened?

Prowl moaned softly, barely audible to even himself as he leaned foward to try and regain some balance before getting up. It wasn't working very well, and he swore that it increased his dizziness. How was he supposed to do his work if he couldn't even get up?

"I see you're up."Ratchet's voice came from the other side of the room.

Prowl turned to face him, gripping the berth a bit to keep from toppling over. He couldn't tell if it was his helm or doorwings throwing him off balance. Ratchet was standing rather close to the berth, right next to it in fact, which rather surprised Prowl. The medic had a very irritated and upset look on his face. There was a perfect word for that. Pissed off.

He held a cube of energon in his one hand, and reached out with his other to grab Prowl by his shoulder and flip him back onto the berth. The cube was unceremoniously thrust into his hands.

"Drink it now and drink all of it, slagtard."Ratchet ordered.

Prowl set it aside though, showing with his actions that he absolutely refused to follow medical orders until he had some answers.

"What happened."

"You had a systems crash, dummy."Ratchet replied snarkily. "From,hold on, lemme see...how about;not fraggin' taking care of yourself?"

"I had alot of work to do."Prowl replied, eyeing the cube hungerly but ignoring it well. "As I do now."

"No you don't."Ratchet stated. No, he smirked. He was smirking. A devious, evil smirk that struck a small ribbon of fear into the Datsun's spark.

"What do you mean?"Prowl asked.

"Optimus is taking care of some of your 'work'."Ratchet replied, even making air quotations. "And by work you mean next week's data-pads, there was only seven left."

Prowl inwardly relaxed a bit, his outside remaining as calm as he could maintain when about to hit the floor from lack of energon. That meant he was well ahead, and could give any emergencies his complete attention. And by energencies, he meant whatever stupid stunt Sideswipe pulled that day.

Prowl looked down as the cube was ruthlessly thrust into his hands again.

"Fraggin' drink this now before I put you on a feeding tube and force it to you myself."Ratchet ordered. "What are you? Some anorexic little schoolfemme who can't get fat?"

Prowl inwardly rolled his optics at that statement. Like Prowl, the Autobot Second in Command and head tacticion, was some schoolfemme suffering from _anorexia nervosa._ Prowl took a sip of the cube, not draining much of it, but taking a sip.

"Happy?"

"I will be when your energy is back up to fuctioning."Ratchet replied.

Prowl sighed. He could feel Ratchet staring at him. He could feel those cold, blue, sparkless optics peering into him, reading his every thought. Seeing the very emotions he hid so well. He could feel the metal on the side of his neck begin to melt under that glare. Metaphorically of course, or else Ratchet would have had some repairs to do.

"Drink it."

"Can you not stare at me?" Prowl asked.

"Make you nervous?" Ratchet smirked.

"No. I would much rather not be stared at like some form of entertainment though."Prowl replied.

Ratchet rolled his optics. "Fine."

The Chief Medical Officer left Prowl alone, muttering something about him being too 'sensitive' and 'stuck-up' and needing to get 'a pair', or something like that. Prowl ignored the comments and sipped his cube in peace. He was used to the snarky comments. He had been called things worse then that since he was a sparkling, not that he cared at all. No, he didn't care at all. Not a bit. Right?

Prowl sighed contentedly as he took the last sip from his cube. His levels had upped to a good forty percent. He scowled at this. While he _felt_ operational, actually _being_ operational was another thing. Forty percent was well below half, and well below good and functional. Why had he only absorbed 20 or 30 some percent energy from it?

Maybe because he wasn't like 'normal mechs' who could practically charge up on a cube and a half. No, Prowl had to be special. He had to have a raging fast metabolism and burn energy more then three or four times as fast as a normal mech. Ratchet was coming back now with another cube in his hands. He swapped with Prowl, the empty for the full. He did so with Prowl until his energy levels finally got back to a decent 93%. It took a good four cubes to do so, but Ratchet was finally slightly satisfied.

"May I leave now?" Prowl asked, no longer lightheaded and hungry but tired.

"No."Ratchet replied. "You are now going to rest."

"I am quite capable of doing so in my own quarters."Prowl replied.

"Ah yes, you were upgraded with the promotion, weren't you?" Ratchet stated more then asked. "But the answer is still no."

"And on what grounds?" Prowl asked.

"That you will simply take some work with you instead of recharging."Ratchet replied.

He thought a second, and turned without a word. He started to rummage through a cupboard, open it and take something out as the cupboards. He carried a plastic, blue pan with him, the kind used when a bot needed to purge and Ratchet didn't feel like cleaning it up. Ratchet returned to the berthside, the square bin in hand.

"Open your subspace."Ratchet ordered.

"What?"

"Your audios bugging you?" Ratchet asked.

"No."

"Then do is I said!"

The subspace in his chest slid open. Prowl started to reach in, but Ratchet smacked his hands away. Prowl was acutely uncomfortable with having somebot other then himself going through his subspace, but had less then no say on the matter.

Multiple data-pads clattered into the pan, all work related. A full and very small cube of energon, and an equally small and empty cube. These small sizes were equall to a pitiful snack. The next thing removed was an energy blade.

"I'll be keeping that."Prowl replied, going to snatch it back.

Ratchet pulled just out of reach. He inspected it, rather surprised by this rather ornate piece. It was all for show, and had very little use as a weapon. It was silver with a red gem on the bottom of it's handle. It had scratches on it's other side, and Ratchet flipped it over to reveal anciet Cybertronian glyphs reading ' Blaze and Clouddrift Junia 17 24-'. He slid up the blade, and was greeted by a steady hum and a clear greenish-blue energy blade. Ratchet slid it back, still inspecting it a bit.

All this time Prowl had remained silent. His doorwings had twitched in irritation as his posession was gawked at by this mech who was not supposed to hold it. Ratchet gave a small sound of surprise as the item was snatched from him, and then glowered at the Datsun a bit as it was placed back in subspace. Prowl started to close it, but Ratchet slid his digits between the closing gap and pulled it back open before his digits could get pinched.

"I wasn't finished."

"I assure you that you will only find my weapon and a few other items." Prowl replied.

"Yes, but what other items?"

"Items that you need not concern yourself with."

Ratchet grunted a bit as he continued to pull items out of the others subspace. Another work related data-pad was tossed into the bin, and a few pened and unopened packages of energon goodies. Prowl was not a food hoarder, but as a mech with such a fast metabolism he needed to have something to snack on throughout the day. As he didn't drink enough energon, and even if he did, he needed them to keep from getting lightheaded and loopy.

The only other thing Ratchet pulled out that caught his interest was a small bracelet made of a bit of wire and some blue and green bracelet was so small that it wouldn't even fit on one of Ratchet's wrist, let alone three of his digits. A few of the beads were square, separated by a single blue bead. Come to think of it, all of the sqaure beads were green and all of the blue beads were round. After a few of the green beads, the entire bracelet was made of the blue. The green beads had glyphs on them, spelling out 'P-R-O-W-L'.

"What's this?" Ratchet asked with a smirk. It was obviously something a sparkling had made.

It was snatched back faster then the blade had been. It was shoved back in subspace, and snapped shut before Ratchet could shove his fingers between it again. The tips of his digits were pinched a bit. Ratchet hissed a bit and sucked on them, again glarring at the Datsun.

"It is private."

_And sentimental._ Ratchet added in the private conversation he was having in his helm with the SIC. The one that involved the red and white mech calling the black and white one a few names, including 'stupid fragger, 'annoying glitch', and a few other things along those lines.

"Am I permitted to leave now?"Prowl asked, his voice just ever so slightly strained from annoyance.

"No."Ratchet returned once again. He was begining to detect a pattern in his own answers. "You are staying in here. Can't trust you anywhere. Bet you have more pads in your room, and I don't want to waste the time looking for them."

Prowl didn't answer, knowing the medic was correct in his assumptions. Ratchet was pulling a curtain around Prowl's berth, giving him some privacy for him to recharge. It aslo shut out a good deal of light.

Prowl lay back, staring at the slightly illuminated black-out curtains, and the round curtain rings at the top where bright beams of light peeked in. How was he suuposed to recharge in here? What if somebot came into the med-bay? Like Wheeljack, or one of the twins after some form of self-inflicted harm. Of course, he was behind a curtain, but what if he...if he...if he snored? Prowl wasn't sure if he did or not. He had been told once or twice by a few different mechs that he bunked with in the past that he did snore when tired enough.

Tired enough. Prowl was too tired right now to care if he did snore. If he did, at least he'd be in recharge then. Offlining his optics, he surprised himself by quickly slipping into recharge.

Author's Notes- Until this story is finished, my other stories are on HAITUS.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

"You want me to what?"

"Chillax." Jazz repeated, slower, shifting his aft to a more comfortable position on the Datsun's desk. "Chill out and relax."

Prowl inwardly scoffed. He did not have time to 'chillax', as Jazz had called it. He was preparing himself for a mission. That mission wasn't for another week or so though, and technically, Prowl was not supposed to be in his office. Ratchet had told Optimus about his systems crash, and as soon as Prowl had left the med-bay, had been told to report to his Commaning Officer.

_"Prowl, you are being temporarily relieved of duty."_

_"S-sir?" Prowl asked, trying to reamin calm. Optimus might as well have been demoting him. _

_"Only for the rest of the orn." Optimus continued in his firm and gentle voice. "I hear from Chief Medical Officer Ratchet that you suffered a systems crash from lack of recharge and energon. Is that correct?"_

_"Yes, sir."Prowl said, his doorwings drooping a bit. More 'relaxing at the joints from their uptight position' then 'drooping', but the motion was not unnoticed by the leader of the Autobots._

_Optimus continued anyways, consulting a data-pad from his desk. A medical report from Ratchet on Prowl. "This also states that you burn energy at a faster rate then most mechs."_

_"Yes, sir." Prowl repeated._

_Optimus vented a bit. He was not trying to have a military confrontation with the mech, but a bot to bot discussion. A friendly chat so to speak. He was worried for his new SIC, and did not want the black and white to kill himself over a few data-pads. _

_The CO motioned to a chair, as Prowl had been standing with his servos crossed behind his back and as straight as a poker. Prowl did so, and visible relaxed a small amount. He sat in the chair straight and tall, and a bit on the edge. Optimus was about to tell him it was all right to lean back when he noticed the doorwings on the SIC's back. _

_"Prowl, it will only be an orn."_

_"I understand that, sir."Prowl stated. _

_"Prowl, you have been doing a wonderful job as my Second. I could not ask for a better mech." Optimus stated, noting the slight look of surprise cross the other mech's faceplates. "I do not want to have to find a replacement for you."_

_"Replacement?"Prowl nearly gasped in surprise._

_"At the rate you are going, you will physically work yourself to death."Optimus replied. "Prowl, after Blackhawk's death I did not have a moments hesitation in finding another second."_

_Prowl could only nod alittle, remembering Blackhawk. The mech, all black as his name suggested, had been the base's former SIC. A terrible accident resulting from a Decepticon ambush and a perfectly shot photon charge had been this mech's untimely offlining. No more then three orns after his death had Prowl taken a seat in this black mech's office. _

_"Yes,sir. I understand. I apologize."Prowl offered._

_"There is no need to apologize."Optimus said gently, smiling a bit behind his mask. "I know that while the workload is a bit more then what you used to have-"_

_"I beg your pardon for inturrupting."Prowl suddenly interjected."But the work is no problem. If I did, it would not be completed yet."_

_Now it was Optimus' turn to be surprised. "Completed? You have all of the work finished?"_

_"As far as I could,sir."Prowl replied._

_"Even all the reports for Blackhawk's offlining?"Optimus asked, as the paperwork for a mech offlining who was considered a 'higher up' was rediculous._

_"Yes, sir."Prowl replied._

_Now Optimus knew that Ratchet had not been exadgerating anything in his medical report. Optimus could not wipe the smirk out from under his mask as he spoke._

_"In that case, your time off has been moved up from an orn to five."_

_Prowl blanked. He blinked his otpics a few times, trying to figure out what had happened. He had told his official that he had finished all of his work, and he punished him by giving him even more time off? What the frag?_

_"Excuse me?"_

_Prowl started, finding to his horror that he had cussed aloud. Of course, it had been under his breath and barely audible, but in a quiet room everything was audible._

_"My apologies, sir." Prowl said a bit awkwardly._

_"You understand that this is not a punishment, correct?" Optimus asked. "Most mechs would be thrilled to have time off."_

_I am not like most mechs. "Yes, sir."a somewhat deflated Prowl replied._

_"But."Optimus said deeply. "If I find that you have been working or in your office for reasons other then to simply grab something, non work related."the CO added firmly."You will be punished."_

_"Yes, sir."Prowl said one last time._

_"You are excused."_

_Prowl rose to his pedes in one motion as he was all ready at the edge of his seat. He stood straight and tall, and saluted his Commanding Officer before turning and leaving._

Jazz smirked a bit as he kicked his pedes a bit, they swung freely as he waited for the Datsun's reply.

"Do Ah havta get OP?" Jazz smirked.

"No,Jazz."Prowl replied. "I was just on my way out."

"What were ya' doin in here ta begin with?"

Prowl froze a bit, but continued his steady pace to the door. He was followed closely by the other black and white, who acted as his shadow.

"I was..."Prowl tried to think of something. "Looking for something."

"Lookin' fer what?"Jazz asked, still smirking. "Maybe Ah can help ya' find it."

"No."Prowl said, a bit faster then he had meant to. "I mean, I don't think it's in here. It must be in my room."

"Ah see."Jazz nodded.

"Please wipe that smirk from your faceplates."

"Nope." Jazz replied.

Prowl sighed a bit. He started to walk towards his quarters, but changed his direction. He started to wander towards the Rec. room, but again went up a different hall. All the while, Jazz was following him like a baby duck. Prowl stopped walking, causing the tailing mech to crash into him and land hard on his aft.

"What the slag?" Jazz asked, rubbing his olfactory sensor.

"What do you want, Jazz?" Prowl asked.

"Ah wanna know were yer goin'." Jazz replied.

"I'm..." Prowl stopped. He honestly had no idea where he was going. He had never had time off like this before.

"Not goin' anywhere?" Jazz finished.

"Nowhere of great importance."came the reply.

Jazz rolled hs optics, finally picking himself up off of the floor. "Why don't ya' come to the Rec. room later tonight?"

"And for what reasons?"

"We're gonna watch a vid."Jazz replied, like an excited youngling. "_The Orn The World Stood Still_. Sounds pretty good, huh?"

Prowl sighed. What else was he going to do? He had no work to do, and he had five days. He might as well try to burn some of those dreadful joors out.

"Fine." Prowl half sighed half mumbled.

"Great! We're startin' at 2100 joors." Jazz replied.

Prowl made a quick mental note of it, and also added an alarm to tell him when to get going.

"All right, Jazz."Prowl replied, turning to go to his berthroom.

Jazz smirked as he watched the Datsun turn a hall and dissapear. Prowl's dissapearance suddenly made something appear in his processor.

"Hey, Prowler-"Jazz stopped. Prowl was too far to hear him now.

No matter. The Datsun would find out as soon as he reached his quarters.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl stood statue still, his face deadpan. He stared into his room as if he was witnessing a break in. No, if he were witnessing a break in he would have been able to take some form of action. He looked as if he had just walked into somebot 'doing it' with another bot.

His room was ransacked! Items could and most likely were stollen! Prowl quickly rushed to his desk and started to go through the all ready open drawer. All of the drawers were open, and messed up.

Prowl couldn't believe that someone had gone into his room and taken his things. He had the barest room in the base! The only nick-nacks and items he had was a small crystal from the Crystal Gardens in Praxus, an offline holo-pic cube or two neatly placed on a shelf, and his data-pads for work. To his surprise, the crystal and holo-cubes were still in place, as were the pads.

There had been a pad on the nightstand, three on the desk, and five in different places in the desk. He found the one on the nightstand, the three on the desk, and the five in the desk drawers. His logic processor was spinning and whirrling about trying to figure out what was going on. Why would a thief come into his room with an obvious override code, and not take a single thing? Was it simply a prank, this 'thief', moving his stuff around?

Prowl sighed as he onlined a pad to make sure the information had not been tampered with. To his surprise and utmost shock, it was a recreational pad. A mystery novel he had enjoyed as a younging. Not caring for that fact he quickly grabbed the next and found it to be similar to the first. Each pad was some form of novel or collection of short stories! Prowl grabbed the last pad in the stack and onlined it. He sunk back in his chair, defeated as he read it.

' I knew you had extra work in your room. Optimus told me to remove it. Enjoy your time off!

- Ratchet'

Prowl could practically hear the medic's taunting, sing-songy voice he had obviously written the note in.

"Why that no good..."Prowl muttered profanities under his breath as he straightened up the room. "Couldn't even be neat about it?"

Quickly re-organizing the desk was a simply five cycle task. As soon as it was finished, he found he still had quite a few hours on his hands. Ratchet had released him from med-bay this morning, he had spoken with Optimus until early noon, and went to his office for five cycles. It was now late noon, 1300 joors. He still had eight joors until he had promiced to meet Jazz in the Rec. room. What was he going to do in that time?

Prowl looked about the room, looking for something to jump out and grab his attention. Nothing did, except for those missing reports from his room. As his optics brushed the room, they fell on a closet-like door. The door to his private and practically unused wash racks.

Now, Prowl was not a dirty bot by any means. He frequently washed, but used the public racks when they were not in use by others. They were closer to his office then his room was. His room, come to think of it, was just as unused as his wash racks. He found himself opening the door and looking about it.

It was actually rather spacious, enough room for two or three bots to shower at once if they crowded close. The latrine was in the corner, and a sink on the other side of the room.

The shower had no door or curtain on it, as a Cybertronian could not really get 'naked'. There were parts that should remain covered at all times, unless of course you were bonded, but even those parts were not taboo to thier culture.

Prowl checked his internal chronometer once more before stripping off his armour and stacking it by the sink. He turned on the shower, and waited a bit for the cleansing fluid to heat up. As he waited, he went into a mirrored cupboard that sat above the sink. He opened it up and took out a polishing cloth and some polish. It was a typical polish, one used on a regular basis. Prowl hadn't shined his armour since, well come to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time his armour was shined up. As he looked over the black and white metal piled up on the floor, he found it rather scuffed up and dull.

The warm and moist tentacles of steam wrapped themselves around Prowl's exposed, gray protoform. A small amount of condesation began to bead on it, and Prowl found himself heading to the shower. He shuttered his optics, letting the warm cleansing fluid cascade from the spout and down his frame. The droplets fell from his doorwings like diamonds, hitting the tiled floor with soft patters and sprays that tickled the bottom of his pedes.

A bottle of cleanser was grabbed from a wire rack connected to the wall,and the purpilish gel was squirted into his hands. He rubbed it back and forth vigourusly between his hands, feeling the thick foam lather. He began to scrub his protoform and doorwings, flapping the back apendages to get the soap into places he couldn't reach. Once his frame was good and sudsy, he stepped back under the spray to rinse it all away.

Even after his frame was good and clean, he found himself just standing there, relishing the feeling if the warm cleansing fluid. He turned it up a bit more, as hot as he could stand. It felt so good, the heat and gentle massage of the cleansing fluid cleaning away all the tension in his shoulders and wing joints. With a bit of relunctance, he shut the stream off and stepped out, a cold draft hitting his exposed and wet protoform.

Prowl quickly took up a towl from the cupboard under the sink, and dried himself off. Once finished, he tossed the towel into a designated spot, the corner of the room, to be cleaned later. He picked up his armour and the polishing items, and headed back onto the room. He dunped the metal plating onto the berth in an unceremonious heap, and sat down beside it.

He took up a piece of it, a piece of pede armour, and wiped the cloth into the jar of polish. He rubbed the cloth against itself, working the wax. He swiped it against the metal, then going into vigorous circles as he worked the wax into the armour. It soon began to shine, and the next piece was picked up ad polished.

The chasis piece was a bit difficult. It was one large piece in itself, but spearated into the stomach plating and the chest armour. It did so in case the bot was injured and only one piece of armour needed to be removed, or if the bot was a carrier and needed the stomach piece removed.

Prowl decided to clean it as one piece. It was a bit cumbersome, but not very. Soon each shiney piece was strapped onto his frame once again. He inspected himself in front of a large mirror on the wall. His armour was indeed nicely polished-but not too gaudy, mind you-but it was still dreadfully faded and scratched. No amount of polishing was going to make up for new paint.

Prowl looked at his doorings. They were scarred a bit by the handles from an injury he had sustained during his first battle as an Autobot. They were just as scuffed up as the rest of his frame was, and needed some maintanace done. A tune-up, a check up with the Hatchet. Ah well, paint could wait until a better time.

Prowl checked his chronometer again. His shower and polish had only taken up a joor and a half. He still had a few before 2100 joors. Prowl vented irritatbly. His optics fell on the pile of data-pads on his desk. Well, there was nothing better to do.

After carefully selecting one and flopping down onto the berth, Prowl onlined the data-pad and began to read the tale of _Cluefinder and Gravedigger._

OoOoOoOoO

**Alert: Note to self- Movie at 2100 joors**

Prowl growled a bit in frustration. There was that alert he was waiting for. He set aside his nearly finished pad. He knew how it ended, but he had hoped to finish it. Besides the fact that he was now unable to finish his book, he had nearly been asleep! That stupid alert jared him from his half-recharge.

Prowl started to debate getting up from his berth or not. He could just go into recharge. Nobot would blame him if he did.

"No."he sighed."I promiced Jazz."

With a heavy vent he rolled out of the berth and began to make the short journey to the Rec. room. His pede crossed the threshold at exactly 2100 joors.

"Prowler, right on time."Jazz said, turning from his seat on the sofa to greet the doorwinger. "Didn't think you was gonna show up."

_I wasn't going to._ "I promiced, didn't I?"

Jazz shrugged before flopping back. He pat a spot next to him. "Saved ya' a seat."

Sideswipe snorted from the floor. "Saved? More like fought every bot off of it."

"Had ta save it from them."Jazz replied smartly before turning back to Prowl and motioning for him to come in and sit down.

Prowl obliged the other mech, and sat down next to him. Prowl did a mental evaluation of the room, looking over each mech there.

Sideswipe and his split-spark twin brother, Sunstreaker, sat side by side on the floor. The leaned up against the other end of the sofa, next to Jazz. Bumblebee sat in a chair, kicking his pedes a bit as he waited for the movie to start. The only other mechs in the room besides the ones stated and Prowl himself was Jazz. He held the remote in his hand, and looked about at the others.

"Everyone ready?"

"We've been ready."Sunstreaker muttered, earning him a red elbow in his chasis.

Jazz pressed a button on the remote, flipping on the holo-vid. The movie started, and almost instantly Prowl found out that he had no interst in this movie. _The Orn the World Stood Still_ was a terrible movie to the Datsun, who discovered how it ended ,by usuing his battle computer and logic processor, in the first five cycles of the movie.

Prowl sat back in his spot a bit, being careful not to kick the Twins, even if he could make it look like an accident. It hadn't even been a quarter of a joor and Prowl was all ready terribly bored with this film. He looked at the others, who seemed to immensly like it. He vented a bit to himself, hoping that he didn't fall into recharge. His optics were all ready heavy, and this movie was it's own lullaby. He wrapped his servos across his chasis, trying to stay awake.

The movie continued on, and Prowl became more fatigued. His helm began to nod a bit, but he jerked it back up. After a few klicks, his helm began to bob again. He tried to fight against it, but something began to caress and play with his doorwing in a soothing way. He twitched it a bit, and then jerked it entirely out of Jazz's reach.

"Jazz."he hissed under his ventilations, trying not to disturb the other movie watchers.

"Chill out."Jazz whispered back, visibly smirking in the room lighted only by the holo-vid screen.

Prowl leaned back, again taking up the battle between staying awake and falling asleep. Once again the soothing stroks on the tip of his doorwings resumed. Prowl violently flapped it away.

"Jazz!"he exclaimed.

"Shh."Bumblebee said with a digit over his mouth.

"Shut up!" the Twins growled in unision.

Jazz said nothing, allowing Prowl to take the rap. Prowl sat back, brooding a bit. Jazz waited a bit for the mech to begin nodding off again before tickling his doorwings a bit. Prowl twitched it a bit, but not as much as he had before. Jazz continued, and smiled to himself as the helm of the other mech fell foward and did not lift up again.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl muttered to himself, being shaken violently. As he stopped, he waived his hand as if a cyber-fly was annoying him.

"Prolwer, get up!"Jazz said loudly.

Prowl started. He began to go for his weapon as he lept to his feet. He grabbed it and swung around to meet this perpetrator. Jazz threw his hands into the air as an acid pellet gun was pointed at his face.

"It's jus' meh!"Jazz exclaimed.

Prowl sighed, both relieved and irritated. He put the weapon away.

"When ya wake up, you really wake up."Jazz chuckled, still a bit nervous from having a weapon pointed at him. A weapon that most likely did not have the safety on.

"I apologize."Prowl said a bit sheepishly. "Reflexes."

"Ah can see tha'. Ya fell asleep durin' ta movie."Jazz explained.

_Through no fault of your own._"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Jazz just shrugged, knowing that part of the reason that Prowl had fallen asleep was because of him. Prowl used a digit to rub one of his optics.

"What time is it?"

"A lil' past 2300 joors." Jazz replied.

"Frag. I'll be late for work in the morning."Prowl muttered, trying to get the sleepy haze out of his processor.

"No, ya won't."Jazz commented. "Ya got time off."

"Frag." Prowl cursed.

"Since when do ya cuss so much?" Jazz asked, realizing just how many times he had heard Prowl swear. Prowl used to never swear.

"Since I became SIC and have been given 'time off'."Prowl replied sharply. "I'm going to bed."he said to Jazz before turning and leaving, stumbling slightly as he was still a bit asleep.

Jazz smirked a bit as he turned to a bewildered Bumblebee.

"Remind meh not ta wake him up again."

* * *

Author's Notes- 2100 joors (2100 hours)= 9 P.M ; 2300 joors (2300 hours)= 11 P.M.

Army time will be used quite often in this story. It is reletively easy to learn. You have your normal time, 1 A.M. (0100 hours or joors in army time)-12A.M(1200 hours or joors in army time). After 1200 comes 1300 (1 P.M)through 2400 (12 P.M.) Simple, right? If this is a bad explanation, use Google or Bing or Norton or whatever the heck you use.

Also, please review! I really want to write a good story like 'Hearts of Eternity' are (my favorite author of TF fanfics). I hope to get a lot of reviews like her stories (See 'Where You and I Collide' and 'Surface of the Sun'.)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

"You wished to speak with me, Jazz?"

"Yes, sir."Jazz replied, standing in Optimus Prime's office.

"Please take a seat."Optimus pointed with one digit from his folded hand that rested atop of the desk.

After Jazz was seated, Optimus decided to cut any small talk planned and skip right to the chase.

"What is the problem, Jazz?"

Jazz was glad that Optimus did not try to engage him in small pleasantries. Even if the CO had, Jazz would have completely ignored them.

"It's Prowl."

"Prowl?" Optimus repeated. "I have not heard from him since I gave him leave. I also have not heard any complaints about him."

"He's gone crazy. Stir-crazy."

Optimus smirked beneath his battle-mask, but his voice showed none of his mirth. "And what has he done to make you believe that he has lost his processor?"

"Take ta other day."Jazz started. It had been Prowl's third day off. "He was in ta trainin' room. 'e 'ad a few drones 'tack 'im."

"How many?" Optimus asked.

"Ah think it was 'tween eight or ten."

"That is a good many. Was he injured?"

"Not in ta least bit."Jazz replied. "He completely anniahlated those drones! Ah ain't never seen a mech 'tack a drone like that!"

"The drones are repairable." Optimus replied.

"Then t'ere was ta shootin' range."

Optimus vented a bit, waiting for the news of what his 'crazy' SIC had done at the range.

"He put ta' thin' on full speed and shot each target and drone wi'hout stoppin'."Jazz replied.

"That is quite a feat."Optimus commented. "But nothing that out of the ordinary. What is it that you think I should do, as you have seeked me out for some form of action."

"Well, Ah was thinkin one o' two things."Jazz started.

"And what are those?"

"Ah think that you should either keep Prowl bored and then sic 'em on the 'Cons, or let 'im go back ta' work." Jazz replied.

Optimus frowned a bit, his optics crinkling at the corners so that Jazz could see that Optimus was not very pleased with the suggestions. Well, the suggestion as Optimus believed that the first one was meant as a joke, or at least he hoped.

"I am not trying to punish Prowl. I gave him the time off for his own good. To recouperate and regain his strenght."Optimus replied sternly.

"You know tha' and Ah know tha', but does Prowler?" Jazz asked, usuing the nickname.

"What do you mean? I told him so before I ordered his break." Optimus stated.

"Ah mean tha' he jus' seems ta be a bit more frazzled then when 'e was workin'. He's the kinda mech tha's gotta be doin' somthin' all ta time. Most bots can do rec. stuff, but Prowler's gotta work. I don' agree wi' it, and would rather 'e take ta time off, but..."

"But what?"Optimus asked, who had been listening attentivly.

"He's kinda different."Jazz replied." A bit 'down in ta dumps', ya might say."

"Depressed?"

"No, not that."Jazz stated, shaking his helm. "Jus' don't know wha' ta do with himself."

Optimus contemplated what Jazz had said a moment. Optimus vented a bit.

"Thank you for the infirmation, Jazz. I will put it to good use." Optimus stated.

"No problem."Jazz replied.

Jazz rose to his pedes, gave a quick salute, and strolled out of Optimus' office. Optimus sat back in his chair a bit, tapping one of his digits to his lips in deep thought. After a few breems, Optimus pressed his digit to his temple.

: Optimus Prime to Prowl :

: Prowl here : came the very quick reply, as if Prowl had been expecting the call.

: Please report to my office :

: I am on my way, sir :

Optimus was about to reply when there was a knock at his door. Optimus started a bit before pressing a button on his desk to unlock the door. It slid open, and Prowl briskly walked in.

"That was fast."Optimus commented.

"I was in the area."Prowl replied.

Optimus gave a curt nod of his helm. "I regret to inform you that I may have to cut your time off short."

Optimus had never seen a mech perk up from being told that he was getting vacation time taken away. The doorwings went straight up in attention as Prowl looked at Optimus eagerly, a bit unnerving for the Prime. Prowl spoke, and sounded as calm as he normaly did.

"For what reasons, sir?"

"I..."Optimus opened up a drawer and pulled out a random data-pad. He onlined it quick and handed it to Prowl. "I have become behind in my work. I need a little extra help getting back to where I should be."

The explanation was humiliating, as well as completely untrue. Prowl didn't care for either of those factors as he carefully took the pad.

"Thank you, sir." Prowl replied before saluting and leaving. Optimus swore that he heard Prowl whoop once the doors slid closed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Prowl sat behind his desk, just as it should have been the entire time. The smooth, cold, hardness of the desk felt like the finest silk to the young SIC taction. Prowl onlined the first of his stack of data-pads, and smiled inwardly as he armed himself with a stylus. He was now fully prepared to attack these pads with all that he had.

Prowl began to fill the pad with all sorts of necissary information and used his highly advanced procesoor to check, double check, and triple check his answers and see if there was an easier way to do something. This pad, though, was not on battle advancements ot tactics, but simply a medical supply pad. There had not been an attack near the base though, so not many supplies were needed. Mainly just perishable items, such as minerals and energon.

"There." Prowl said wih a sense of satisfaction as he set aside the pad.

It felt so good to be back! Prowl instantly promiced himself that he would never, ever, take a break or a vacation again. There were simply not worth it. Prowl had no idea what others see in 'down time'. No matter though, he had work to do.

The day dragged on, and soon all of the reports were finished. There had only been five or six, but they had been so worth it. Prowl subspaced them and began to head up the halls. He stopped before a familiar door with silver glyphs on it. He knocked a few times, and a deep, baritone voice permitted him to enter.

"Prowl."Optimus acknowledged."I did not expect to see you so soon."

Prowl gave a polite nod to his CO before opening his subspace and removing the pads. To Prowl's complete and utmost horror, a bag of energon goodies had gotten tangled up somehow with the data-pads, and landed on the floor next to his pede. Prowl wanted to shutter his optics and sink into the floor, or have the floor swallow him and the goodies right up. Instead, Prowl saw that indeed the bag had been the open one, and the shining blue snacks looked back at him.

"I-I am terribly sorry."Prowl stuttered a tiny bit as he quickly placed the pads on the desk and bent down to scoop up the treats.

They were usually inteded for sparklings and younglings even though most adults enjoyed these 'gummy' snacks as well. Prowl did not use them for enjoyment or pleasure, but it was still embarrassing none the less to have a childrens snack pour from you in front of your Commanding Officer.

Optimus didn't seem to care. To tell the truth, he didn't. Most bots kept snacks in their subspace, mind you, usually just for snacks and not for medical reasons. Prowl really shouldn't have to be so uptight and flustered about it, in Optimus' mind anyways.

The treats were quickly shoved in the black and white mech's subspace. Prowl straightened up and looked his CO right in the face, his expression showing nothing.

"Do you have any more work for me, sir?"

"No, Prowl. I thank you for getting these to me so quickly."Optimus replied.

Before the leader could continue, a flashing red light began to fill each office and hall and Red Alert's panick filled voice flooded the speakers.

"We have a Decepticon attack in Sector 5, repeat a Decepticon attack in Sector 5."

Optimus was instantly on his pedes, his rifle coming out of hiding. Prowl was getting ready to grab his acid pellet gun when a large red and blue hand stopped him.

"I need you to maintain the base until I return."Optimus stated.

"Yes, sir."Prowl replied.

Optimus ran from the room and quickly gathered a battalion. They were seen driving off down the barren streets of the gray planet. Prowl knew why Optimus had told him to stay behind. That mission was coming up and coming up fast. Prowl had been preparing for it with alot of extra training. Optimus had mainly given him the time off to rest up for this mission, as a sick mech was not a functioning mech and was useless to the Autobot cause.

Prowl left Optimus' office to return to his own. If somebot needed him, they'd know where to find him.

OoOoOoOoO

"Twins, report."Optimus ordered.

"All clear."the red and yellow mech replied in unision.

"Sideswipe, take three mechs and cover the left flank. Sunstreaker, take three mechs and cover the right. Everyone else is with me." Optimus quickly stated.

"All right."Sideswipe said just as quickly. "Hound, Brawn, and Smokescreen are with me."

"Bluestreak, Mirage, and Cliffjumper are with me." Sunstreaker stated as the mechs broke off into their separate groups and quickly dissapeared out of view. Some, mainly Mirage, faster then others.

Optimus looked at the mechs he had left. Ironhide and Jazz. A small group, but he could not ask for better mechs to fight with. Ironhide with his motto of 'Shoot first; think later', and Jazz with his quick thinking, sharp shooting, and silent pedes. Jazz wasn't Head of Special Operations for nothing, nor was Ironhide just randomly given the title of Weapons Speacialist.

"What's our orders, Priham?"Ironhide asked, his cannons glimmering a bit as they caught the setting sun on them.

"We need to stay together and keep a look out for the others and the Decepticons."Optimus replied, his optics to the skies for an arial attack.

His sharp optics pierced the very atmosphere, not a single robo-sparrow going unnoticed. The three black specks in the distance were not over-looked.

"Jazz, signal to Sunstreaker's team that the Decepticons are heading their way. Three seekers in alt. mode." Optimus said, looking about for more 'Cons.

"All righty."Jazz replied, usuing an Autobot signaling involving air waves and light flashes to alert Sunstreaker of the danger heading his way.

"Ironhide, Sideswipe has six grounders heading his way." Optimus continued.

"Got it."Ironhide replied before comming Sideswipe.

: Ironhide ta Sideswipe :

: You got him :

: Got some ground-ponders heading yer way. Yer outnumbered two ta one :

: Got ya, old timer :

Ironhide mutterd under his breath as the connections were cut off. Part of the reason was because the conversation was over. The other reason was that a third battalion of Decepticons had been sighted, coming straight for Optimus' group.

"Stand your ground!" Optimus shouted above the noise of weapons being fired. "We can take them. There are not as many as anticipated!"

Ironhide heard and obeyed, downing two Cons of his own. Jazz was having a grand old time in hand-to hand combat with Blitzwing. By a grand time, he meant that he was winning and Blitzing was getting the slag getting beat out of him.

"Hee-haw!" Sideswipe shouted from overhead, followed by a whoop from Sunstreaker, also overhead.

Of one was to look up, they would have seen flashes of black, purple and yellow followed by white, blue, red, and even more red. Thundercrcaker was literally bucking in the air as Sunstreaker dug his claws into sensitive wiring and wings. The black and purple Decepticon began to lose altitude, and crumpled the nose of his alt. mode as he crashed into the ground. Sunstreaker hopped off just in time for the Seeker to transform and high-tail his smoking aft out of there.

Sidesipe was acting very similar to his brother, digging into the wires and wings of Skywarp. Skywarp downed much faster then his trine mate had, and had even more damage to his frame as he half limped half ran away.

"Come back here, cowards!"Starscream exclaimed from over head as he dive bombed towards Optimus' group.

He swung up after firing multiple blasts at the Prime, either missing or having his photon charges avoided by the leader of the Autobots. Ironhide took careful aim with his left canon, and fired at the trine leader's right wing.

"Bull's-eye."Ironhide drawled as the the ascending Decepticon began to descend.

"I'm hit!"Starscream screeched as he tried to keep himself from crash landing.

He managed to do so, just barely, and began to fly away. His trine mates transformed back into their jet modes and followed their leader.

"Decepticons, retreat!" Starscream shouted. "We must be repaired!"

"Megatron's gonna be so slagged off."Thundercracker muttered.

"Do you want to continue fighting?"Starscream asked.

"No."

"Then shut up!"

A round of cheers came from the Autobots as both flyers and grounders bearing the Decepticon insigna took of for the 'hills'.

"What are the casualties?" Optimus called out above the cheering.

"Bluestreak's injured!" Sunstreaker called back as he helped the doorwinger to stand.

"And Hound."Sideswipe replied as Hound put a hand over his smoking hologram projector.

The few Autobots formed a large group, looking over each other for more wounds that might have gone unnoticed. There were a few dents here and there, and multiple scratches. The only dent that needed medical attention was in Cliffjumper's pede. The mech could barely stand, but was still able to walk. It simply needed to be pounded out. Bluestreak was injured the worst, his doorwing not only smoking but bleading out at an alarming rate.

"Sit down." Optimus ordered the gray mech.

He didn't need to be told twice, and landed on the charred ground with a heavy thud. A Praxian's doorwings were very sensitive paneling, as well as important. They could pick up disturbances and vibrations in the air, and used them to signal with. They were also used to show emotions, even though those motions were more subconscious and involuntary.

Not only were a Praxian's doorwings sensitive enough to nearly make a grown mech cry by simply hitting them, there were many main energon veins going through them. If they were cut, even a tiny bit, a bot could bleed out in a matter of breems.

Bluestreak was beging to grow lax. He had been shot in his left door wing. The pain was about to make him go into stasis lock, also making him unresponcive, and he was leaking enough to make pools at the other's pedes.

"Turn of yer fraggin pain receptahs!" Ironhide barked.

Bluestreak began to fumble with his functions internally until he was able to shut off the receptors there, even though it did little good for a doorwing. Turning off pain receptors was usually frowned upon by medics as it made their job harder, but on a battle field it was necessary.

Jazz was digging through his subspace, and quickly grabbed a clean polishing rag. Optimus, who was closest to the injured winger, took the rag and pressed it against the wound. Bluestreak hissed a bit and the wing involuntarily jerked away a bit, but Optimus held it firm.

"Is Hound all right?" Optimus asked.

"It's nothing serious, Prime." Hound replied. "I merely cracked the lens on my projector, and cut a few wires. I can fix it myself."

"The medics will attend to you."Optimus replied, not wanting the green mech to unintenchionaly inflict more harm upon himself.

"Can ya' stand?" Jazz asked after sending the others up ahead, to warn the others back at base about the injuries.

"I-I think...so." Bluestreak, the most talkative mech, murmured as he shaikly tried to rise to his pedes.

He began to sink back to the ground, having lost too much energon to support himself. He refused to be carried though, but allowed Optimus to support him. Every step hurt, every involuntary twitch of his doorwings hurt. His vision was beging to blurr, and he didn't feel like talking or answering any of the questions asked to keep him alert and awake.

Jazz hurridly took another rag from his subspace, a polishing rag like the first, and put it under the wound that continued to gush out lifeblood as it it were it's job. Optimus soon had to remove his own hand from the wound, with the drenched cloth. Bluestreak was losing more and more energy, and clutched both of Optimus' hands for dear life.

The base wasn't very far, as why no medic had went to the bettle field themselves. The base was probably another astro-mile though, an astro-mile and a half to be exact. Bluestreak had moaned from time to time, but had never said a word during their entire trek so far. That fact in itself was unnerving, as Bluestreak even talked in his recharge.

Feeling he could go no longer, Bluestreak mumbled to Optimus."S-stop..p-please."he pleaded.

Optimus gently eased the mech down to a sitting position. Bluestreak was raggedly panting, condensation forming on his overheating frame. He was trembling violently, and his shaking was not helping the bleading in the least bit.

"Easy."Optimus said gently to the criticaly wounded mech.

"I'm...a-all right." Bluestreak muttered, trying to catch his breath."Just...n-needed ta, rest."

Before anyone could comment, Blustreak began to choke. He coughd up a small amount of congealed energon before slumping a bit. His wound was making his frame overheat, making him sick. Bluestreak moaned a bit, trying to keep his optics open.

"'M...so...t-tired."he mumbled.

Jazz shook him a bit."No sleepin'. Ya gotta stay awake."

Bluestreak hummed a bit, desperatly trying to stay awake as recharge and stasis lock protocals began to take over. Maybe if he focused on that black figure in the distance. The one running away.

"Stay with me, sohldah."Ironhide said, his voice booming and loud.

His voice was not helping Bluestreak stay awake. Bluestreak gave a small cry of surprise as he was suddenly lifted to his pedes, and Optimus was once again supporting him.

"We have to keep moving. We are almost to the base, Bluestreak. Just a little farther." Optimus spoke, moving Bluestreak along as if he were leading a confused sparkling. "Can you make it that far?"

Blustreak distantly nodded, his processor not hearing nor answering correctly. He felt as if he were in a daze, everything blending together in one, slow motioned blurr. The blurrs were begining to become laced with darkness. Little ribbons of darkness that shut out certain sights, like the others' faces. Bluestreak succumbed into the darkness.

"Whoa!"Jazz exclaimed as Bluestreak slumped toawrds the gound. He was not even close to hitting it as Optimus had him.

Optimus quickly shifted his servos, swinging Bluestreak up bridal style. The base was in sight and not even a quarter of a mile away. Optimus could easily carry the wounded mech into the base. And carry him he did, right into the med-bay where he was gently plopped onto a berth. Optimus was unceremoniously pushed out of med-bay as the medics began to do their job.

As soon as Optimus turned around, he saw two winged mechs in the waiting chairs. Prowl looked up and rose as Smokescreen bounced his pede a bit, remaining seated. Neither mech spoke.

"Prowl?" Optimus asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Family problems."Prowl replied, motioning towards the door. "Smokescreen just informed me of Bluestreak's injury."

"How is he?" Smokescreen asked.

"I do not know."Optimus replied. "Ratchet will fix him though. You do not have any reason to worry."

"He is in good hands."Prowl added.

Ratchet had a few nicknames. 'Fragger', 'slagtard', 'Hatchet' and a few others were the most common, but 'Miracle worker' was the one used to describe him best.

Optimus soon left the two doorwingers alone, as there was nothing the Prime could do at that moment. Smokescreen and Prowl sat side by side, neither speaking to the other. The breems went to joors, and the joors slowly crept along klik by klik. Smokescreen had nodded off sometime between now and then, and Prowl had remained awake, watching the door as if his life depended on it.

Finally, after endless joors of waiting, the med-bay doors swung open and Ratchet stepped out wiping his hands off on an energon stained rag. Prowl nudged his recharging brother with his elbow joint, causing the red and blue winger to jerk up.

"I'm up."he mumbled.

Prowl payed him no mind as he rose to his pedes. He voiced the only thing in his processor at that time.

"How is he?"

"He's in recharge." Ratchet replied. "He'll be fine. Sore, but fine."

"Can we go see him?" Smokescreen asked.

"Make it short. Don't want you cluttering my med-bay." Ratchet replied.

The two mechs went into the bay. It was a simple task, finding Bluestreak. He was facedown on the med-berth, his wings in the air. They were being held still with a clamp, and the injured wing was completely bandaged up. Smokescreen reached him first, taking up one of the grayish-white hands. They curled around his own blue one as an automatic reflex.

"Hey, Blue." Smokescreen said softly. "You're gonna be all right. Doc says ya' just gotta rest up."

"He is." Prowl replied.

"Why don't you say something?" Smokescreen suggested. "Let him know you're there."

"I don't think he can hear us." Prowl stated.

"So?" Smokescreen asked. "He's your little brother!"

"He is yours as well." Prowl replied. "You are also considered my younger sibling."

Smokescreen scoffed and rolled his optics. "All ways gotta be so formal, Prowl? Can't you just say something to comfort another instead of just thinking about yourself for once in your Pit-spawned life?"

Prowl involuntarily took a step back. He was not expecting an outburst. Of course, his logic processor was telling him that stress had gotten to the blue doorwinger.

"He will be fine." Prowl stated. "He has a very high chance of survival, and a low chance of infection. He-"

"I don't care about your stupid statistics!" Smokescreen stated defiantly." Get through your thick helm that not everything is rules and regulations and percenteges. Scrap happens."

"Exatly." Prowl stated."So there is no reason to work yourself up over nothing."

"Nothing? Our baby brother going into battle and nearly getting killed is 'nothing?" Smokescreen shouted.

Bluestreak unshuttered his optics a slit, unknown to the other Praxians. He was used to the yelling, used to the fighting. He really didn't want to listen to it now, or any time for that matter. He shifted a bit, graoning tiredly as he started to sit up.

"Blue?" Smokescreen asked, pushing him back down. "Take it easy. You were shot."

"I feel like I was shot."Bluestreak chuckled. "Kinda weird though. Never saw the mech who got me."

"Probably was a Seeker." Smokscreen shrugged as he helped his brother to a more comfortable position for any winger, on his side.

Blustreak shook his helm, finding his glossa a bit more. "I thought of that, but I wasn't anywhere near them. The Twins were taking care of them, and Prime had Starscream. Maybe it was one of the grounder drones. There were a whole bunch of them. I wasn't able to keep count of them. There must have been a-" Bluestreak yawned, cutting himself off. "A score of them or so."

Smokescreen was smirking, listening to his younger brother's prattling. If he was talking, that was a good thing. They knew to worry if he stopped.

"Your systems need to stableize and regain strenght." Prowl stated. "Rest is highly advised, if not ordered."

Bluestreak's, who had been smiling, face fell a bit. Not exactly the 'I'm glad your okay, you should get some rest' kinda phrase he had been hoping for, but that was as close to it with Prowl as he could. Smokescreen scowled at his older brother a bit before patting Bluestreak's hand.

"You should get some rest. You'll get better faster." Smokescreen stated.

Bluestreak nodded a bit, stifiling another yawn. Smokscreen rose from his crouched position and started to leave, being sure to brush his wings against Prowl's own. A Praxians way of purposfully wacking into somebody. Prowl vented a bit.

"Pleasant recharge cycle." Prowl replied before leaving as well.

Bluestreak smiled a bit. "'Night, Prowl."

Bluestreak watched as his two elder brothers left the med-bay, the double doors swinging a bit even after the two mechs had left.

* * *

Ah, Prowl...yes. Your own brother hates your very guts. At least you got your work back because of your pouting!

Please review


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

Prowl rose from his desk chair, stretching a bit. He had been at it for some hours now, an entire day and late into the night to be exact. He was far from finished, and he could not stop for anything. For once, this wasn't Prowl being Prowl. This was Prowl being the SIC taction who needed to finish this presentation for tomorrows meeting. The meeting that would show him what he needed to do on his Mission.

Prowl sat back down, grabbing his favorite weapon, the stylus. He went back to his data-pad on battle strategies and statistics. He had no time to spare on recharge or refueling, even though Ratchet would probably chew him out if he didn't. No matter, he could grab a cube in the morning and get a quick nap after the meeting.

After the pad had been finished and the one accompanying it had been finished, Prowl found himself rather tired and in need of fuel. He was on 75% energy, and Ratchet would be severely angry if he found out. Before Prowl could rise and run to the Rec. room for a quick cube, a message popped up in his HUD.

**Alert: Note to self- Meeting at 1000 joors.**

Prowl muttered to himself a bit as he hurriedly subspaced the pads and went to the meeting room. It looked like he wasn't going to be able to grab that cube until after the meeting. As long as his tank didn't grind loudly enough for others to hear, all would be well.

As Prowl entered, he was not surprised to see Optimus all ready seated there. Ratchet was there as well, as was the norm. Prowl took his designated seat next to Optimus and across from Ratchet.

"Greeting Optimus Prime, Ratchet." Prowl stated as he sat down.

"Prowl." Optimus acknowledged with a nod of his helm.

Ratchet, though, did not greet the SIC. "You look pale."

"Pale?" Prowl asked, refraining from rolling his optics.

"Yeah. Pale in the optics, and your paint's a bit dull." Ratchet stated frankly.

Prowl was not given a chance to reply as Ironhide entered and took his seat, followed by Jazz. The Twins, frontliners to the Autobots, also joined in on this meeting. Wheeljack also took a was an empty chair in the far corner by Ironhide, but it was to remain empty as Bluestreak was not able to make it. As the top Sniper for the Autobots, his imput would have been greatly appreciated, but being injured made him in able to join the mechs.

"This meeting will come to order." Optimus started.

It was a small group, as Ultra Magnus and Elita-1 were not here in person or by hologram. All optics turned towards the Prime, and any bots who had been talking instantly silenced.

"Bluestreak will not be joining us today. The reasons are well know, and will be discussed further later on." Optimus began ."Also, the reason for this meeting is known well, I assume?"

Optimus' spark sank a tiny bit as the Lambo Twins shook their helms. Even Ironhide looked as if he didn't know the reason. It was going to have to be explained. With a vent, Optimus began.

"There have been sightings of a new Decepticon. His designation is unknown, as well as the bot in general. He has not been seen or reported of, as of yet."

"So, we're meeting to discuss some rumors and a myth?" Sunstreaker asked.

"No. We have proof that this mech exists."Optimus replied patiently.

"Visible proof?" Sideswipe asked. "Like pictures or something?"

"Yes and no." came the reply.

"Wha's that supposed ta mean?" Ironhide asked.

Before Optimus could explain, Ratchet did.

"We know the reason Bluestreak was not able to join us, correct?" the CMO asked.

Nods came from all around the table.

"He was shot in the wing. We were all there." Sideswipe stated.

"Except for Prowl and Ratchet." Sunstreaker added.

"Bluestreak was shot in the wing, and by an unknown weapon." Ratchet replied, pushing his chair back to stand up.

He took a few steps towards a small screen and turned on a projector that sat on the edge of the table. The first image was of Bluestreak's injured doorwing. There was a large, black, smouldering hole going straight through it. The medical berth was visible through the hole. It was stained and smeared with blue energon, that dripped in a frozen way from when the holo-pic was taken. Prowl forced himself to look, his outward appearance showing none of his horror and disgust.

"This was done by no ordinary photon charge. Nor was it done by a simple laser blast. This was done by a unique combination of phosphate and and a highly explosive photon." Ratchet explained.

"Wouldn't that just blow up the moment the two touched?" Wheeljack asked.

Sideswipe snickered. "You should know."

Wheeljack scowled at the red mech. Ratchet ignored the Twin as he turned to address Wheeljack.

"Normally, yes, but in this case it was also mixed with an iron ore to keep it from diffusing until it hit a point of impact and combined the two materials." Ratchet explained.

"Like a bullet wi' an explosive side." Jazz commented.

"Exactly." Ratchet stated. "Bluestreak is not the only mech to suffer from this Decepticon's unique weapontry. Bots all over Cybertron have been getting hit."

A few pictures slid one by one on the projector. Gory pictury after gory picture. One had a mech with his leg blown clear off, the same black and charred injury. A femme had her shoulder shot, again black and smouldering. After a few more pictures, Optimus ordered him to stop.

"As you can see there have been many wounded by this Decepticon, but not enough to make it appear that he is accommodated with anyone." Optimus explained.

"So 'e works alone." Ironhide stated, earning a nod from the CO.

"And now we reach the reason this meeting was called. Prowl?" Optimus turned to the black and white Datsun who had remained rather silent during the meeting.

"Yes, sir." Prowl said, sliding his chair back with a loud scrape as he rose to take Ratchet's place at the small screen.

He attached a data-pad to the projector, and turned it back on. There was a map of a small portion of Cybertron. It contained Praxus, Tyger Pax, Epsilon, and Iacon where the Autobots were currently located. Mainly anyways, there were bases scattered all throughout Cybertron.

On the map were large red dots. The dots had black lines drawn in, like a game of connect-the-dots. The red marks were also numbered, the black line going in order. Prowl pointed at the first numbered dot, his hand shaking ever so slightly as he began.

"These are the exact areas where our mystery Con has struck. Here is where SuperNova was shot,"he said motioning towards a dot in Epsilon,"And here is where DustDemon was attacked."Prowl pointed just outside of Tyger Pax. "Bluestreak was shot here."

The Datsun's hand froze a moment before he pointed barely outside of Iacon. Prowl pointed out a few more of the dots, all in order.

"I believe I have started to detect a pattern. A rather sporadic and unpredictable pattern, but one n-none the less." Prowl stated, his voice wavering a bit.

"Well?" Ironhide asked after Prowl had paused for a few kliks.

The kliks turned to breems, and yet Prowl still had not replied. His servo had fallen to his side, and he stared off into space.

"Prowl?" Optimus asked.

Prowl teetered to the side, his wings dragging him down faster. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, and remained unmoving as the others stared at him in shock. Ratchet was the first to shake off his stupor, and leapt from his seat and took the two steps to the Datsun's side. A blue beam was emitted from the medic's servo, and enveloped the black and white frame.

"Fragger." Ratchet muttered as he picked the SIC up a bit and propped him against the wall.

Ratchet went into his subspace and pulled out a small was clear and rather tubular, and had nothing in it. He uncorked it and placed it beneath the unconscious mech's olfactory sensors. Ironhide and Sideswipe wrinkled their olfactorys at the smell emitting from the bottle.

Ratchet waived the small bottle back and forth. Prowl snorted and shook his helm as he jerked up a bit. Ratchet held it there a moment longer before Prowl pushed his servos away. Hydrogen sulfide was not something you wanted to smell for very long, once conscious.

"Stupid slagger." Ratchet berated. "Forgot to fuel up again? What do your systems say?"

Prowl check quickly. "65%." Prowl admitted. "I was meaning to grab a cube this morning, but finished my work only in time to get to the meeting."

Ratchet grunted. He slapped Prowl in the side of the helm with his hand, much to the Twin's amusement. Prowl stood up, radiating heat from his embarrassment. Optimus was suggesting that he sit down for a bit, but Prowl shook his helm.

"I'm fine, sir." the doorwinger insisted. "It will be best to continue."

Optimus gave a nod of his helm. "Proceed."

Prowl went through his memory base quickly, to find what the last thing he said was.

"He seems to be working his way to Kaon." Prowl finally answered Ironhide's unasked question of 'what the frag is the pattern?'

"Kaon."Sunstreaker mumbled.

"Decepticon headquarters." Sideswipe added.

"He is getting closer every klik A form of action must be taken, and taken soon." Optimus stated, motioning for Prowl to take a seat. "I have decided that three to four mechs will be heading to Kaon-"

"What?" Ironhide exclaimed, banging his fists on the table.

"Tha's a suicide mission." Jazz stated. "Minus ta mission. A mech goin' on tha' trip had better not be plannin' on comin' back."

"I never said that the mechs would be entering the city." Optimus replied, silencing the Head of Spec. Ops. and Weapons Specialist. "The mechs going would be going to cut off this mech's path and hopefully deal with him in any way seen fit during the situation."

"Like offlining him?" Sunstreaker asked, a hint of darkness in his voice.

Optimus' optics narrowed a bit. "Offlining is only used if all other options have been stressed to their limits. That is how it always has been; that is how it always will be. That rule is one of the things that separates us from the Decepticons."

"So, who'd be going?" Sideswipe asked, looking a bit bored.

"Only one mech has been put on the list of those going." Optimus replied."And that is Prowl."

Sideswipe started to snicker, earning him a few sharp looks. He ignored them entirely.

"You want a bot who can't even take care of himself to go on a dangerous mission? He'd be more of a burden to his team then what he's worth." Sideswipe sneered.

"Prowler's gotten yer aft outta more situations then Ah care ta count." Jazz stated. "His battle computeh has gotten all o' us outta many scrapes, and his logic processah's one of te finest."

Optimus raised his hand for silence. "Thank you for your input, Jazz. If there are no more questions or inputs of value, then this meeting is adjourned."

As there were no more questions or inputs of value, as Sideswipe had many inputs that would not have been valuable to this cause, the meeting was adjourned. As Prowl rose to leave, Optimus stopped him.

"Prowl, I would like to speak to you in my office."

"Yes, sir." Prowl replied.

"Stop by the Rec. room and grab yourself a cube of energon first. Bring it with you."Optimus added as he rose to leave.

It must be something important, or at least Prowl thought so. He quickly went to the Rec. room as instructed and filled a cube with the pink, shimmering liquid. He left the nearly empty Rec. room without even so much as taking a sip of it as he headed for Optimus' office. The door was wide open, so Prowl did not need to knock. The door automatically slid closed with a 'whoosh', disturbing the air and tickling Prowl's doorwings.

"Please take a seat, Prowl."Optimus stated, motioning towards one of the two empty chairs before the desk. After Prowl did so, sitting in the very edge as usual, Optimus took a vent and began. "I belive you know why I called you here."

"I have my assumptions." Prowl replied, his cube still untouched in his hands.

"And those are?"Optimus pressed.

"That you called me about what happened during the meeting. I apologize sincerely for my mistake, as much time was wasted in reviving me when tactics could have been discussed." Prowl returned.

"You are half correct then. Part of the reason is of what happened when you passed out during the meeting." Optimus replied, noticing the irritated twitch of doorwings as he spoke. "The other reason is the statements made by Sideswipe. While they may have been made out of mockery, they have much value in them."

"Sir?"

"Sideswipe has a right to worry about the squad that would be dispatched with you. If you cannot even keep your own energy levels up and get an adequate amount of recharge to keep yourself running, how can we trust other's lives in your hands? You are the SIC of the Autobots. You need to keep yourself running and running well." Optimus stated firmly.

Prowl shifted, the still untouched cube a bit between his hands. "I understand, sir. I was honestly meaning to refuel before the meeting, but had no time as I finished the reports the moment my alert sounded.

"Prowl, what are your energy levels at?" Optimus asked suddenly, raising his helm to look at the Datsun.

"Sir?"

"Your levels, Prowl. What are they at?"

"They are nearing 54%, sir." Prowl answered, his voice a bit lower then what it usually was.

"What was it fifteen breems ago?" Optimus asked, a bit surprised at how low the levels were.

"They were 65% at the meeting."Prowl stated.

Optimus paused for a second. Prowl had lost over 10% of his energy simply walking to the Rec. room and to his office. "Drink your cube."

Prowl started to rise to leave.

"Sit back down."Optimus ordered. "Drink it here. I'd like to see something."

"Um, yes, sir." Prowl replied, feeling a bit awkward as he drank before his CO.

Optimus waited in silence for Prowl to finish the cube. It was finished in only a few breems.

"Prowl, what are your energy levels at now?" Optimus asked.

Prowl checked. "They are back to 65%, sir."

"That's it?" Optimus stated, much to the SIC's surprise. "You only absorbed 10% energy from one cube?"

"Is that a problem, sir?" Prowl asked, wondering what the big shocker was.

"I have a much larger build then you, Prowl, but I absorb between 40 and 50 percent energy from a single cube." Optimus replied.

Prowl didn't know how to reply. Was he supposed to apologize or agree? He sat in silence, looking down into the empty cube in his hands. What was he supposed to feel? Not that he would let on what he was feeling, but was he supposed to be embarrassed or not? He did not notice that his doorwings had drooped down a good deal, nor that a soft vibration was going through them in abashment.

"Prowl, go finish refueling and meet me in the med-bay at 1400 joors."Optimus ordered, although not unkindly.

"Yes, sir." Prowl answered, rising and leaving.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"You want me to do what?"

"Burn off as much energy as you can." Ratchet repeated, irritated at the fact that he had to say what he did twice.

"For?" Prowl asked.

"An experiment." Ratchet smirked, but not his normal terrifying smirk that made sparklings (namely Bee when ne was younger) run and cry for their guardians.

"What kind of experiment?" Prowl prodded.

Ratchet sighed in a very irritated manner."Just go burn off your energy. Come back before they hit 50."

"And just how do you expect me to burn my energy?" Prowl asked, having little intentions of doing whatever the medic suggested.

Ratchet rubbed his chin in mock deep thought. "How about...I chase you with a wrench?"

Prowl vented as he rose. "That will not be necessary. I'll be back."

"I know you will."Ratchet replied, turning his back to the Datsun.

Prowl left without another word. He fully intended on simply going for a drive by himself and then returning without a word to anyone. As fate would have it, the moment he stepped out of the med-bay he instantly smacked into Jazz.

"Hey, there, Prowler!" Jazz exclaimed, flashing a smile as the light reflected off of his visor in such a way to make it gleam.

"Hello, Jazz." Prowl replied, side-stepping the mech.

Jazz did not seem to take the hint, and fell in line beside the SIC.

"What ya' doin'?"

"Nothing."

"Well, ya gotta be doin' somethin'. It's impossible for somebot ta' do nothin'." Jazz stated.

"Oh, really?" Prowl asked, only half listening.

"Yep. Even if yer jus' sittin' down not movin', yer still breathin' and yer spark's still thimpin', so yer still doin' somethin'." Jazz replied.

Prowl vented, coming to a stop. "What is it that you want, Jazz?"

"I wanna know what yer doin'."

"If you really must know, I am trying to burn off my fuel." Prowl replied.

Jazz looked at Prowl is if he had a second helm suddenly sprout. "For?"

"That I am still trying to find out myself. Optimus and Ratchet have ordered it." Prowl replied.

"So, how ya' plannin' on doin' it?" Jazz asked.

"I was figuring on just going for a nice,_quiet_ dive or walk." Prowl replied.

Jazz either didn't hear Prowl, or chose to ignore the comment. "A walk? Why don' ya' try somethin' fun?"

"Fun?"Prowl asked.

"Yeah, Prowler. Fun-somthin' enjoyable and pleasant. A.K.A, the opposite of ya'." Jazz smirked.

Prowl looked slightly offended. "I can be fun."

"When?"

"When I choose to be."

"When do you choose ta' be?"

"Jazz, I do not have time for this."Prowl sighed, pinching the bridge of his olfactory sensor in irritation. "Is there something you need or are you simply trying to be obnoxious?"

"Hey!"Jazz exclaimed. "Ah don' try. Jus' comes naturally."

"Indeed."Prowl agreed.

"Now, wha' Ah want is for you ta' follow meh." Jazz said, grabbing Prowl and practically dragging him outside the base.

The outside of the base was rather bare. There was a large, gray, metal wall blocking those in from the outside, and those outside from the in. There was twisted, curled, thorny electrified barbed wire on top of the think metal wall, that hummed with the volts and amps going through it. The ground was hard and dusty, and small clouds of dirt were kicked up as it was walked on.

Some bots came out here for training, when it involved things that were too violent or hectic to be done indoors. It was also used for some games, like Batter Ball and Disk Toss. Certain games like Hard Ball and Lobbing were also enjoyed by the stronger or more violent mechs on base.

"What are we doing out here?" Prowl asked, turning towards the other black and white only to find him gone. "Jazz?"

"Hey, helms up!" Jazz's voice shouted from the other corner adjacent to Prowl.

Prowl threw his hands up just in time to catch a flat, blue, metal disk tossed it him. It side's were curved slightly downward, allowing it to float through the air better.

"Are ya' gonna keep gawkin' at it or toss it back?" Jazz shouted.

Prowl vented before flinging the disk back. Jazz had to leap to catch it. Without a moments hesitation, the disk was tossed back. Prowl had to run and then leap to keep it off the ground. Jazz laughed at the way Prowl looked as he landed on his pedes again, crouched down and wings flared out. Prowl used Jazz's distraction to his advantage, and whipped the disk back at Jazz before the Spec. Ops. mech could even process what was happening, the disk struck him on the forehelm. He caught it as it fell towards the ground.

"Tha's cheatin'!" Jazz protested.

"You should have been watching what you were doing." Prowl stated calmly.

Jazz scowled a bit as he tossed the blue disk back to the Datsun. They tossed it a few more times between themselves before a third voice came from the base's main entrance.

"What's going on out here?"

"Bluestreak!" Prowl nearly exclaimed, and ducked down barely in time for the disk to fly by right where his helm had been.

He scowled at Jazz as the mech laughed. Bluestreak also found the predicament humorous, doubling over with laughter.

"Oh, Prowl! You should have seen your face when you ducked down! I thought it was going to hit you, which would have been funny, but the look on your face when it whizzed by you was priceless! I am so saving that to my data-base to show Smokescreen later." the gray mech babbled.

"Bluestreak, when were you released?" Prowl asked as soon as the mech had stopped talking to take a breath.

"Just now. Ratchet gave me medical leave for a few orns. He said to just take it easy and my wing should be fine. It's not like I use it as much as a Seeker of a Flyer does. I mean-"

"Hey, Blue! Ya' wanna join our game or keep talking?" Jazz smirked.

"I'd much rather do both." Bluestreak replied.

"I don' know if ya' can do two things like tha' at once."Jazz teased. "Yer the kinda bot that can't chew rubber and walk at ta same time."

"That's not true." Bluestreak objected. "I can too."

Before the gray doorwinger could continue, he had to dodge and jump to catch a flying disc. He tossed it to Prowl, who in turn tossed it back to Jazz. Again the game continue on for a few more breems before a fourth voice came from the main entrance.

"You out here, Blue?"

"Right here, Smokey."Bluestreak called back, catching the disk and holding onto it as he turned to address the red and blue doorwinger.

"I knew you were." Smokescreen stated. "Just checking."

"How did you know of Bluestreak's whereabouts?" Prowl asked, looking a tad confused.

Smokescreen tapped his chasis, right above his sparkcase. "Because, unlike some selfish fraggers, I have the bond with Bluestreak open."

Prowl visibly tensed at the insult. Jazz bit his glossa to keep from saying something he might regret. It also wasn't his place. This was between Prowl and Smokescreen, whatever it may be.

"I am not a selfish fragger." Prowl stated.

"No?" Smokscreen sneered. "Then why isn't your bond open?"

"I choose to keep it closed." Prowl replied.

"That doesn't answer my question. _Why _is your side of the bond closed?" Smokescreen repeated.

"You know very well why it is closed." Prowl stated.

"Oh yeah, you don't want to get distracted from your precious work." Smokescreen said in a taunting voice as he waved his hands a bit.

"That is only part of the reason." Prowl replied firmly.

"Then what's the other reason?" Smokescreen asked haughtily.

There was silence from Prowl's end. Smokscreen took a step towards his elder brother, reinstating his question.

"What is the other reason, Prowl?"

Again there was silence as Smokescreen took another step.

"Prowl?"

The two Praxian's now stood side by side. Both were visibly tensed. They stood almost faceplate to faceplate, their wings flaring out in an attempt to intimidate the other. The action only seemed to anger the other further, even though Prowl appeared much calmer the Smokescreen did. The opposite was true though, as Prowl was angrier then the two of them.

"I will ask you once more, Prowl." Smokescreen replied. "What is your other reason?"

"Can you not trust me on this?" Prowl asked.

What was the black and white supposed to say? I can't stand to see you hurt let alone feel that you are in pain? My job is so dangerous that I can be killed at any moment, even assassinated in my very desk? I don't want you to feel that if that happened? No. Smokescreen was just going to have to trust him.

"No, Prowl, I can't."Smokescreen replied.

"What have I ever done to betray your trust?"

"What have you done to earn it?"

"What have I done to make you hate me so?"

"What have you done to make me want to like you?"

Like. Smokescreen might as well have just simply said 'I hate you'. Smokescreen, his own brother admitting that he didn't like Prowl. Love was out of the question then. Love would be and was too much to ask.

"Guys, can't we just play the game?" Bluestreak asked.

"Not until the carrier fragger tells us what his other reason is." Smokescreen replied.

"Then this game is over." Prowl stated. It didn't matter anyways, his levels were close to 49%. arguing with his brother drained him faster then any exercise could. Prowl turned to Jazz, who had quietly stood there. "I apologize that the game will be cut short. I thank you for your help."

"No problem." Jazz replied.

Prowl turned and started to re-enter the base.

"Where the Pit do you think your going?" Smokescreen shouted.

"To report to Ratchet, as I was ordered to." Prowl retorted, never looking at red and blue mech as he went past him.

"Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you." Smokescreen demanded with a stomp of his pede. Prowl did no such thing as he continued into the base. "Come back here and settle this like a mech!"

"A real mech doesn't pick fights."Prowl responded, stopping and looking over his shoulder.

"A real mech doesn't walk away from his problems either." Smokescreen countered.

"I am not walking away from my problems." Prowl retorted. "I am following orders."

Smokescreen muttered something inaudible. "Go on then, coward."

Prowl turned and continued into the base without a word. It was hard to tell if the insult hurt him as he showed nothing. Smokescreen soon stormed into the base, muttering to himself. Bluestreak had stood still the entire time, his doorwings sagging, as he had watched the entire ordeal. His doorwings still drooped as Jazz went to his side.

"I can feel how angry Smokey is." Bluestreak said quietly. "He feels betrayed and hurt."

"Wha' 'bout Prowler?" Jazz asked.

Bluestreak shook his helm. "Prowl shut off his part of the bond vorns ago. I don't know if he can feel us or not. All I know is that neither Smokescreen nor I can't fell him, communicate with him, or send him pulses."

Jazz just shrugged. Being an only child had meant that he had only been able to share pulses with his creators. He knew that it was different with siblings, just not sure how it was different. Jazz clapped a hand on Bluestreaks shoulder, giving him a reassuring shake.

"Ah don' know 'bout you, but Ahm, starvin'. Waddya say if we go grab a cube?" Jazz suggested.

Bluestreak shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Jazz smirked, trying to cheer up the gray mech. The two went into the base themselves, talking a bit between themselves.

* * *

Author's Note- I made up some of the games...Here are what they mean

Batter Ball- A cross between baseball, softball, and cricket as one has the option between a board or a bat

Disk Toss- Frisbee or Pluto Platter for you oldies out there. The object of the game is pretty simple. Catch the flying disc.

Hard Ball- My farther was in the ARMY when I was very little (I was actually born in an ARMY hospital and lived in it for a few years). He talks frequently about the Rugby that they would play at times and how they would tape their ears back to keep them from getting ripped off due to the violence of the game. 'Hard Ball' is simply 'Rugby'

Lobbing- See Transformers Prime for that (too lazy to do so? It's just a HUGE ball tossed back and forth. So large that when caught it makes even a wrecker slide back a few yards.)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

Prowl was again in the med-bay. He sat on the edge of a berth, waiting for Ratchet to stop talking with Optimus. He still had no idea what was going on, only that he needed to fuel up again. Prowl could care less about refueling though. His processor was elsewhere.

_Why couldn't I just tell Smokescreen the real reason I keep the bond closed?_

_'Because you are a selfish fool'_

_I am not._

_'Who cuts their own siblings off?'_

_They are not cut off, merely blocked. It's not like I severed the bond. It's still there._

_'Then why not unblock it?'_

_I can't._

_'Why not?'_

_If I get hurt, it'll hurt them. If they get hurt..._

_'Can't stand to see your little brothers injured?'_

_What does it matter? Why am I even talking to myself. I must be going insane._

_'Wouldn't you rather know if your siblings were injured instead of some bot telling you? Wouldn't you like to know what they were feeling? Where they are, communicate with them through your bond, Prowl?'_

_No. Things are better the way they are._

"Prowl, are you even listening to me?"

"What? Oh..."Prowl started, noting that Ratchet and Optimus were next to him now. "I'm sorry. My mind was elsewhere. What were you saying?"

Ratchet vented in irritation. How he hated to repeat himself!

"I said I have something I want to try out on you." Ratchet reprised.

"How lovely."Prowl stated dryly.

"Don't worry, Prowl." Optimus said. "If all goes right, it should be a very big help to you."

Prowl simply vented as Ratchet disappeared for a moment, and then returned again. He held a cube of energon in his hands. Prowl raised an optic ridge as he looked at it. It was blue. A sharp, bright, neon, _electric_ blue.

"What is that?" Prowl asked warily.

"Energon." Ratchet stated in a rather irritated matter-of-fact voice.

"I came to that conclusion myself." Prowl replied. "Why is it _blue?_"

"Because it is high in energy." Optimus explained.

"High Grade energon is not blue. Well, not that shade anyways." Prowl stated.

"This isn't High Grade." Ratchet snorted, as if it had been obvious. "It simply is a more raw form of energon."

Prowl simply nodded, eyeing the cube as unsure as unsure could be. It was mercilessly thrust upon him. Prowl swore that he could feel it vibrating, sending tiny pulses if energy through his hands.

"Drink it." Ratchet ordered, wielding a wrench in his hands as a visual threat.

Prowl lifted it to his face. He could smell the electricity from it, and hear a faint humming. The scent tickled his olfactory sensors a bit as he prepared to take a sip.

This was going to be interesting.

Ratchet watched with great interest as Prowl hesitantly took a small sip. He lurched forward just in time to catch it as it fell from the Datsun's hands.

That sip had been something. That was the only way to describe it. The pure, raw energy in it attacked his glossa, instantly giving him a bit of a charge. Prowl had felt his systems instantly gain a small level of energy from that one, tiny sip. He had not been prepared for such a kick, like a gun going off with a bad kick-back. He was practically thrown back.

"Are you all right?" Optimus asked the black and white mech that was currently gripping the sides of the berth.

"_Wow_." Prowl gasped.

Ratchet smirked. "I take it that it worked?"

"If it was supposed to charge me on a sip, then yes." Prowl answered, a bit breathlessly."It is quite potent."

"You'll get used to how strong it is."Ratchet replied.

_I don't think anyone could 'get used' to something like that._ "I suppose your right."

"I know I am." Ratchet stated. He handed the cube back to Prowl. "You can leave now. I'll make a batch of it and put it in an old dispenser for you in the Rec. room."

"Thank you." Prowl stated as he rose to his pedes, wobbling ever so slightly on them.

Optimus watched as the trembling mech left the Med-bay, his doorwings vibrating from the charge.

"Are you sure that this energon is safe?" Optimus asked once the SIC had left.

"Of course it is." Ratchet replied, all ready working on a large batch. "Just not for normal bots and especially not for minibots."

"I'll be sure to put a code on the dispenser." Optimus mused, not wanting his mechs to overcharge and suffer the same effects of High Grade from drinking from a wrong dispenser.

"Yeah, yeah."Ratchet wiaved the Prime off. "Now, if your not bleeding, ill, or dying...get out!"

Optimus was not one to argue with the logic of the resident Chief Medical Officer, and took his advice. He turned on his heels and left the med-bay the way a glitch mouse evades a cyber-cat, he ran.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl sat down in his office, alone. His quiet, calm office. No one to yell at him, or to yell at. No one to bother him with silly experiments or games, no nothing. The only thing in that office was Prowl, his work, and the cube Ratchet had given him.

That cube. He still had to finish it. A sip may have had quite a backlash, but it had been nowhere near enough to fully charge him. Tensing up a bit to prepare himself for the strong, pure acid flavour of the cube, Prowl tilted the cube back and took a big gulp.

The cube was slammed onto the table. A drop splashed out and hit the desk. The blue drop began to fizz and sizzle a tiny bit before burning itself out, leaving a very small, miniscule burn mark. Yep, and Ratchet was making him drink it.

With a vent Prowl tried again, and was able to tolerate a rather large sip. By the time the cube was finished, he was quite able to tolerate the flavor of fire and electricity mixed together. Just for the heck of it, Prowl decided to check his energy levels.

**Levels-100%**

Pleasantly pleased, Prowl began to work again. He had a lot of preparations to do.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl practically stumbled into the Rec. room late that night. He had worked nonstop until 2200 joors. He hadn't stopped to refuel of rest once, and had alarms and alerts blaring at him from all over his HUD. The tired SIC staggered towards the new dispenser placed in the room just for him. It's lazer blue liquid bubbled a bit. Prowl was surprised that the energon hadn't melted through it's casing.

Picking up an empty cube, he placed it below the spout and pressed the lever down. Nothing happened. Venting in frustration, he banged the lever down again. Maybe it was just jammed. After banging the lever up and down for a few bleems, and the cube in Prowl's hand remained just as empty as it originally was, Prowl suddenly realized what he was doing wrong. Optimus had put a code on the dispencer. With another vent, Prowl typed it in.

'16-18-15-23-12'

Once the numbers were punched in, Prowl was able to press the lever down and the unnatural blue energon flowed out and filled the cube. It automatically shut itself off once it had spouted out enough.

Normally, Prowl would leave the Recreation Room for his office or berthroom. He wasn't going to do that today though. Well, not yet anyways. He had a reason to be in the Rec. room today, one more important then getting a cube of energon so that Ratchet didn't deconstruct him for spare parts. No, he had a reason to be here today, and that reason just strolled in.

As Smokescreen walked into the Rec. room, he froze. He glared at Prowl a moment before turning to leave.

"Smokescreen, wait." Prowl called out, quickly going to the red and blue mech's side.

"What do you want, Prowl?" Smokescreen seemed to hiss, each word dripping with hatred and betrayal.

What did he want? Why was he here again?

"I didn't want to leave things the way they are." Prowl said.

"You going to explain what your reason is?" Smokescreen asked.

Prowl tensed. "No, I am not."

"Then you going to apologize for being an aft?" Smokscreen spat.

"I have no reason to apologize." Prowl stated, running the scenario through his logic processor. "I was not the one who started the argument."

"So, you saying I should be apologizing?" Smokscreen asked, rasing his voice a bit.

"I did not say tha-"

"But you're implying it!" Smokescreen exclaimed.

"No, Smokescreen. If you would simply mute it for a klik-"

**"**You mute it." Smokescreen interrupted again, "Just mute it. I don't want to hear what you have to say, nor do I have to. You're the selfish aft who has his bond closed, with no explanation. I'm sick and tired of you, Prowl. Sick and tired."

Prowl's wings sagged a bit, but still remained upright. His face showed none of the hurt that currently plagued his spark.

"Smokescreen, I-"

"Just go, Prowl." Smokescreen hung his helm and looked away, pointing at the door with an extended servo. "Just go."

Prowl noticed the lowness of his brother's voice, and the crack in it. Prowl vented heavily, looking down at the floor and his pedes.

"If you wish. I am sorry that I must leave like this." Prowl stated as he began to follow the extended servo towards the door.

"Wait, leave?" Smokescreen asked.

Prowl stopped and turned back to face Smokescreen, who looked at him curiously and slightly confused.

"Yes." Prowl replied. "I am to leave in the morning."

"To where? For what reasons?" Smokescreen questioned quickly.

Prowl did not answer directly. "Maybe if you would show up to a meeting once in awhile you would know."

"They are not mandatory for my rank." Smokescreen stated firmly.

"But they are advised." Prowl added.

"We're getting off subject." Smokescreen stated hotly, trying to avoid another fight he didn't have the time to deal with. "Where and why are you going."

"A small group and I are tracking down the Decepticon that has injured many Autobots, including Bluestreak." Prowl replied.

The Datsun turned to leave, but a red and blue servo reached out and a hand grabbed him.

"What?" Prowl asked, knowing good and well what Smokescreen wanted.

"Why didn't completely answer me. Where are you going?"

"We are heading for...Kaon." Prowl replied, quickly shaking off the hand and retreating down the halls.

Smokescreen stood statue still, looking as if he had been punched in the gut. His elder brother was going to the Decepticon headquarters? That was as dangerous as a Decepticon going to Iacon, only an Autobot wouldn't shoot a Decepticon on sight if he wasn't attacking. Without a moments hesitation, Smokescreen took off to find Bluestreak.

OoOoOoOoO

"He's doing what?" Bluestreak exclaimed, plopping down on the edge of the berth. "He can't do that! He'll be killed! I don't want him killed, he's all we have left. Prowl's still our brother, bond or nor bond. He can't go! He can't!"

Bluestreak leaned foward, burying his face in his hands. Smokescreen placed a hand on his younger brother's back.

"We have to stop him from leaving." Bluestreak stated.

"I don't know if we can." Smokescreen admitted.

All the arguing with him might have actually goaded Prowl on. What if it had? What if Smokescreen had unintentionally made Prowl solidify his intentions of going to Kaon, and Prowl was killed? Smokescreen would never forgive himself if Prowl died on this mission.

"We have to stop him though! It's a suicide mission." Bluestreak said in a distraught voice, on the very verge of tears.

"I don't think he'll listen to anything I say." Smokescreen admitted.

"Then let me try." Bluestreak said, jumping up. "I'll get him to change his mind. I have to. He'll get killed if he goes, I know it!"

"Do what you think will work." Smokescreen said.

"I will. I'll get him to change his mind, you'll see." Bluestreak stated, turning and marching right out of the room.

Smokescreen sat down on the other berth in the room. There were only two now, but Smokescreen could remember a time when there had been three berths in this room. One for Bluestreak, one for Smokescreen, and one for Prowl. That all changed after Prowl had been promoted to SIC and got a room with the job upgrade. Now it was just Blue and Smokey. It wasn't so bad though. They could talk now without being shushed by a tired black and white.

Smokescreen vented and lay down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He hoped that Blue would be able to change Prowl's mind on the mission. It was just too dangerous for him to go on, Second in Command or not.

Speaking of Bluestreak, the gray mech was pounding on Prowl's locked berthroom slid open with a hydraulic hiss, and Prowl stood there, looking at the gray mech curiously.

"Yes?" Prowl asked, stepping aside to keep from getting boulded over by the other doorwinger. The door hissed closed, and Blue launched himself into his speech.

"You can't go, Prowl! You'll get killed. I don't want you to die! We need you here at base. You're the only one that can keep us in line. Please, Prowl, you can't go. I'd-"

"Bluestreak!" Prowl exclaimed, holding himself back to keep from slapping a hand over the rapidly moving mouth. "Calm down. I can't understand you when you're upset. Sit down, take a deep vent, and start over."

Bluestreak plopped down on the edge of Prowl's berth as the black and white mech pulled the desk chair over. The gray mech filled his vents with air, and started agin.

"You can't go to Kaon. You'll get killed!"

"I am not going to Kaon." Prowl stated.

Bluestreak breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you changed your mind. Smokescreen said that you were going to Kaon to catch a Decepticon, the one that got me."

"Then you heard right." Prowl replied.

"But you said-"

"I am going with a squad to capture the Decepticon who is heading to Kaon. We are hoping to capture him before he gets to the Decepticon headquarters." Prowl explained before Bluestreak could launch himself into another lecture.

Many of the Autobots on base swore that if they sat all of the Decepticons down and had Bluestreak talk to them, that a ceasefire and peace treaty would be signed by Megatron himself if only to get the gray mech to stop talking. Bluestreak resented it, but Prowl was slightly inclined to believe it. Only, Prowl's battle computer told him that Blue would only get killed.

Prowl forced himself to listen to his brother, who had started to ramble again.

"Do you see what he did to me?" Bluestreak exclaimed, pointing at a large discolored scar in his doorwing. "If he did this at long range with me, just think of what he could do to you at close range. Think of what he could do to you in hand-to-hand!"

"I would not be going alone." Prowl stated, trying to stop his logic processor from showing what very well _could_ happen to him. Bluestreak also had a very good point, as one of the top snipers in the Autobots. "As I said, I would be leading a squad."

"Who would be going with you?" Blustreak asked.

"I believe the Twins would be going-"

"That's good." Bluestreak admitted.

"I do not know who else, but a few others are going as well." Prowl finished.

"So, you're still going?" Bluestreak asked in a small voice.

"I have to."

"If you didn't have to, would you?"

Prowl paused for a second. "Yes, if I was given a choice, I would."

Bluestreaks wings sunk down so low that the were no longer visible from someone looking at his front. He stood up without a word and started to leave. He stopped before the door.

"Prowl, I love you. I don't want you to get hurt." Bluestreak stated, looking at the Datsun in his seat.

Prowl rose. "I love you as well, Blue."

Bluestreak sighed. He wanted more then anything for the bond to open, so that Bluestreak could show Prowl just how much he loved him. With another sigh, the door hissed open and Bluestreak stepped out. It hissed closed, and Bluestreak practically ran back to his shared room.

Smokescreen shot up as the door opened and Bluestreak ran in. Before the red and blue could ask what happened, Bluestreak ran to his own berth and threw himself face down in it. Muffled sobs and clicks floated from the pillow.

Smokescreen sighed, getting his answer. He slid onto Bluestreak's berth and wrapped a servo around him.

"It'll be all right, Blue."

"He'll get killed!" Bluestreak exclaimed, sounding as if he were eating the pillow instead of just laying on it.

"No, he won't. This is Prowl we're talking about. With the fancy battle computer and logic processors and all." Smokescreen said, trying not to sound distraught himself. Or disgusted with the fact that Prowl was still going.

"I know."Bluestreak sniffed a bit, rolling onto his back and trying to wipe the coolant from his face. "The Twins will be with him too, and whoever else is going on the mission."

Smokescreen sighed and nodded. At least the two best frontliners would be there for some protection. They were a bit reckless, okay, a_lot_ reckless, but when it came to a job that required seriousness, they would do it and do it well.

"He'll be fine, Blue."_ I hope._

* * *

Author's Note: There is something pretty cool(in my opinion) in this chapter. Go back and look at the code used for Prowl's energon dispencer. If A=1 and Z=26, what does it spell? Kudos and cupcakes to the first person to figure it out


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

Optimus Prime stood by to see the mechs off. This squadron consisted of Prowl, the squads leader for his logic and battle computer. The Twins were there for firepower and combat; Ironhide was going to help with the prisoner, help keep the Twins in line, and for his brute strength and fire power. And, even though it was rather dangerous to send a medic off of base, First Aid was going for quite obvious reasons.

"May Primus keep you all safe." Optimus said to Prowl and the others as the stood on the outside of the fence.

"We will net let you down, sir." Prowl promised.

"I only ask that you return." Optimus replied. "'Till all are one."

"'Till all are one!" came the reply as the squad transformed and took off across the spance.

They had a long journey ahead of them, and no time to waste.

Prowl took to the lead, constantly scanning for any spark signals even though his logic processor was telling him that the crook most likely had a dampener. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were on either sides of the Datsun, just behind him. Ironhide and First Aid followed right behind the Twins.

They drove over the metal wasteland that Cybertron was rapidly becoming. The once prominent citys had become dry and desolate. Energon was rapidly becoming scarce, even though there had not been a set ration yet. Every so often the small fleet would come across a Neutral village, but had no time to stop there.

"Hey, Prowl?" Sideswipe asked after noon had come.

"Yes?" Prowl asked, undistracted as he continued to drive at a steady pace.

"What city are we going to come to first?" Sidesipe asked.

"We will not come to any set city today." Prowl replied.

"Then where are we gonna stay?" Ironhide asked.

"I can't sleep outside!" Sunstreaker exclaimed.

"We will be sleeping outside, just hopefully not tonight." Prowl replied. "We should hit another Neutral camp in a few joors. If they will have us, we will camp there."

"What if they won't let us stay?" Sunstreaker asked.

Having the Neutral village turn them away was a very real possibility. Some villages might simply want nothing to do with the war, and turn them away to keep safe from a side. Other villages, however, might turn them away for completely other reasons.

Just because they bore no insignia did not mean that they did not lean towards a side. Many Neutrals leaned towards the Decepticons while just as many leaned towards the Autobots. While a Decepticon centered village would probably not attack an Autobot, they would greet them with much hostility and turn them away without a second though.

"Then we will rest outside." Prowl returned. "We have plenty of provisions."

There were a few grumbles, mainly from Sunstreaker, but nothing more. The Autobots continued to drive in silence until the sun began to set, and the first of Cybertron's moons appeared in the horizon.

"Are we almost there?" Sideswipe asked, beginning to tire from their first days journey.

"The village is in sight, Sideswipe." Prowl replied.

Indeed, the Neutral village was in sight. It's thick cement walls had protruding spikes rising from the very top. A white flag waved high above, showing that it had no allegiance. It was soon reached, and it's large doors were pounded on.

"Who be there?" a voice called down from a small tower on one side of the door.

"I am Prowl, Second in Command of the Autobots. We seek refuge for the night." Prowl called up.

A lemon yellow mech leaned out of the window of his tower. "An Autobot you say?"

"Yes, we are Autobots from the city of Iacon." Prowl called back, turning to allow his insignia to catch the last light of the setting sun.

"An Autobot." the yellow mech mused. "Pray tell who the others might be."

A few of the Autobots opened their mouths to reply, but Prowl silenced them with a motion of his hand.

"We are Ironhide, the Weapons Specialist. The Twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, frontliners, and First Aid, a field medic and trainee medic under our resident CMO." Prowl called back.

"And is your Chief Medical Officer with you?" the lemon yellow mech asked.

"No. Optimus Prime saw fit for him to stay at Headquarters." Prowl replied.

The yellow mech in the tower was silent for some time. "You know very well that we are Neutral and do not wish for any part in this war of yours."

"We only ask for a place to rest for tonight." Prowl replied. "We wish no trouble upon you, and we are willing to pay a fee."

"We ask no fee. If I was to allow you passage, we only ask for the use of your medic, First Aid." the yellow mech replied.

"Do you have injured among you?" Prowl asked.

"That is not for me to say. I must discuss it with the elders. If they agree, then the doors shall be opened unto you. If the do not wish to give you passage, you shall be sent on your way." the yellow mech said before disappearing.

Sideswipe looked as Sunstreaker, looking completely weirded out.

"Is it just me, or was he a few circuits short of a full board?"

"Nah, he seemed kinda crazy ta me." Ironhide stated.

"They are simply old fashioned." Prowl replied. "If we are allowed to stay here, let me do the talking and do not do anything I wouldn't do."

"So act like a tight aft?" Sunstreaker asked, earning a snicker from Sideswipe.

"Do you want to sleep outside?"

"No."

"Then mute it."

The lemon yellow mech appeared a few moments later. "My friends, Primus has smiled down upon you today! The elders have granted you passage for the night."

No sooner had the words escaped his mouth, the heavy doors began to rumble and shake and creak as they were opened. Dust fell from it as it stopped it's motions. The few Autobots entered and the doors were instantly closed. The lemon yellow mech was there to great them.

"I have not introduced myself yet. I am Skylance."

"I am Prowl."

"Yes, you have all ready said so." Skylance replied.

Before anyone could say anything, Prowl was grabbed by his shoulders and kissed on both cheeks. He was released just as violently as he was taken up.

"The official greeting of Volca!" Skylance exclaimed happily as he grabbed Sunstreaker and did the same.

Sideswipe was trying to hide behind Ironhide, but was also grabbed and kissed. First Aid had little say as two kisses were planted on his cheeks. Skylance turned towards Ironhide.

"Nu-huh." Ironhide stated. "I ain't beein' kissed."

Prowl glared at the Weapons Specialist. Ironhide shook his head.

"You wish to do so to me?" Skylance asked, confused as to why the large red mech did not want to be greeted.

"No." Ironhide all but exclaimed. He stopped down a bit for Skylance to kiss him.

"There. You have been greeted. I am certain that you must be tired after your journey. Iacon is a long way from our humble village. Come, I will show you where you may fuel up and freshen yourselves."

"Thank you." Prowl said with a small bow of his helm.

Skylance took them away from the door. This Neutral village was rather similar to others. It had many small huts inside of its walls, each one being a separate house. There were a few small shops, markets most likely, and a communal eating place. There were all passed as Skylance led them to a very large hut near the center of the village.

"This is where you are to stay." Skylance stated, unlocking the door.

The few bots held back a gasp as the door was opened. There were only a few rooms, a berthroom for them all to share, a wash rack for them to share as well, and a main room with a small kitchenette. For something so small and humble looking on the outside, it was beautiful on the in.

The walls were painted a deep and royal red, much different from the orange of base. Beautiful glass work adorned random areas, multicolored, blown, and twisted into all sorts of abstract shapes. There was also beautiful pottery in different corners of the main room. They pots were huge, large enough for them to stand in if they wished, and painted in bright colors and patterns.

"I hope that you find it to your likings, my friends." Skylance announced. "I will leave you for now. I will return at dusk for the elders wish to meet with you."

"Thank you, Skylance." Prowl replied. "I recall you mentioning a wish for First Aid."

"All will be explained later." Skylance replied as he left. "Until then, my friends."

The door was closed, leaving the bots to themselves.

"Have you ever seen such art?" Sunstreaker asked, rushing over to inspect a large pot.

"It's extraordinary." First Aid gasped, looking at a twisted piece of blue glass that hung from the ceiling.

"Sideswipe, don't touch that!" Prowl exclaimed, slapping a red hand before it could knock down a piece of pink glass, that looked like some kind of organic plant. A flower, most likely.

Ironhide grunted. "Yeah, it's great."

Prowl checked his internal chronometer. "We don't have much time. We have to wash up before Skylance returns."

Sunstreaker sighed wistfully. "Must we? This room alone is like an art museum."

Prowl was about to contradict the yellow mech when Sideswipe smirked knowingly.

"Let me hand this." he whispered. "Dear Primus, Sunny!" he exclaimed. "You're covered in dirt!"

Sunstreaker jumped up, inspecting himself. A whine came from his vocoder. He was covered in dust and dry dirt. "I'm a mess!"

"The wash racks are that...way." Sideswipe said, pointing as Sunstreaker practically ran into the wash racks.

Sideswipe was laughing as he followed his brother into the wash racks. The others went as well, covered in dust and gravel from their journey. The wash racks were not as grand as the main room, but were something in themselves.

The walls were a deep blue, the floors white tiles. There was a white latrine in the corner with no stall around it, and a matching white sink. The sink was attached to the wall, and seemed to hover above the floor. A large mirror, one that allowed a bot to see their entire frame, was next to the sink. The rest of the rather spacious room was all tile, drains, and shower heads.

"Jus' pick one and wash off." Ironhide said as he stepped under the first faucet and turned on the cleansing fluid.

Each bot went under another faucet, the twins having to share one. There was some pushing, shoving, and punching until they got themselves situated.

Prowl closed his optics a bit, letting the warm water flow over his travel worn frame. It was only the first day, but they still had a long way to go, and who knew when they would be able to bathe again. They could come across a bunch of villages that sent them away. Enjoy the simply luxury of running liquid while they can.

The only bot with enough 'insight' to bring a bottle of cleanser was Sunstreaker, who absolutely refused to share. He squirted the purple gel into his hands and then quickly hid the bottle in his subspace again, smirking as he made his wet frame sudsy.

"Come on." Sideswipe pouted. "Just a little?"

"No way! I only have a little bit-"

"A little bit? You have an entire bottle!" Sideswipe contradicted.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics. "I'm not sharing."

"I'm your brother! I think I'm entitled to a squirt." Sideswipe stated.

Sunstreaker shook his helm, stepping back under the cleansing fluid to rinse off.

"Here." Sideswipe said sweetly. "Let me help you."

The others watched and waited for the brawl to begin. None ever happened. Not even a small slap was placed on either frame. Sideswipe began to help Sunstreaker rinse off in an odd way, using his pedes and elbows to do so.

"I know what you're doing." Sunstreaker rolled his optics.

"What?" Sideswipe asked innocently.

"You're trying to get the cleanser on yourself by helping me." Sunstreaker answered.

"And it's working." Sideswipe smirked, rinsing some suds off of his own frame.

Sunstreaker scoffed and stepped out from under the stream. He noticed that he had a few more suds on the very tip of his digits. A devious plan entered his processor, and a smirk plastered itself on his faceplates.

"Hey, Sides." Sunstreaker started.

Sideswipe turned to look at his brother with his helm only. "Yeah,what is- Ah! Primus damn it Sunny!"

Sunstreaker started to laugh, doubling over and holding his knee caps. Sideswipe was doubled over as well, holding his upper face. His optics.

"You got the cleanser in my optics!" Sideswipe exclaimed.

Sunstreaker stopped laughing. "Are you hurt?"

Sideswipe peeled his hands away from his optics, forcing themselves closed and watering to try and get the soap out. "What part of 'you got the cleanser in my optics' do you not understand? Yes, it fraggin' hurt!"

"Then put your face in the cleansing fluid." Sunstreaker ordered, guiding his red twin under the stream and helping him rinse the soap from his optics.

"Slaggin' glitches." Ironhide muttered, shaking his helm as he started to leave the wash rack.

First Aid soon followed Ironhide's example, and left the wash racks. Prowl remained fixated in spot, the cleansing fluid flowing over his clean frame and armour as he stood in deep thought.

Had he ever done anything for his siblings like that? Of course not, he'd never throw soap at them. But, had he even helped them out when they were injured? Well, of course he had! Had he only done it out of necessity though, because it was expected of him? Prowl certainly hoped not.

He was unaware of the liquid being shut off, and red and yellow hands poking him.

"Cybertron to Prowl, come in Prowl." Sideswipe playfully said.

Prowl jerked a bit. "What?"

"Are you,like, okay? You've been standing there, staring at the wall." Sideswipe stated.

"Wanted to make sure you didn't crash or something." Sunstreaker shrugged.

"No, as you can see I have not crashed." Prowl replied. "It would be best for us to join the others now. Skylance should be coming any breem now."

As the three bots exited the wash racks, they found that Skylance was all ready there.

"Ah, my friends!" Skylance exclaimed on seeing them. "I was hoping that you would come soon."

"I apologize for the wait." Prowl replied. "I did not know of your coming."

Skylance waved him off. "No reason to be sorry. You are here now, and that is what matters. The elders wish to see you."

"Yes, of course." Prowl returned.

"I will lead." Skylance stated, opening the door to leave.

The others followed the lemon yellow mech. Skylance moved at such a fast pace that the others had no chance to observe their surroundings. They would have to look on the way back. Skylance had stopped before a rather small building.

To one who did not know what it was, one might have mistaken the building to be an extremely tiny church of some sorts. As it turned out, the building was a meeting place for the elders of the community.

The inside was rather bare, except for a few pictures and the like. It was set up like a courtroom, only the jury's stand was in the front and there was no judge's seat. Skylance motioned for Prowl and the others to stand before the 'jury's box'.

Five bots sat there, each a solid shade. One was blue, another red, a third green, a fourth a dark purple, and the last;a femme; was a soft rose.

Skylance walked in front of the line of Autobots, and bowed to the elders.

"These are the travelers I have told you about." Skylance stated. "They are led by the Autobot Second in Command, Prowl."

A large and aged mech in the middle of the elders slowly rose to his pedes. His joints creaked and groaned with protest.

"I am Maquillage." the royal blue mech said in a voice cracked with age. "Pray tell, which of you be the one designated Prowl?"

Said black and white stepped foward. "I am the one of which you speak."

"It is a pleasure and an honor to meet the Second to Optimus Prime." Maquillage stated.

"The honor is mine, sir, to meet a mech such as yourself." Prowl said with a small bow.

"Skylance, one of the guardians here at Volca, has told us that you are on a mission?" Maquillage questioned.

"Then Skylance has told well, for we are indeed. We are in search of an invasive mech, who has injured many." Prowl explained.

"I believe I know of who you speak of, young leader." Maquillage said, closing his optics as he sat back down amongst his group.

"You know this mech?" Sideswipe exclaimed, forgetting himself and Prowl's warnings. "Have you seen him?"

Prowl despratly wished that he was close enough to the wall to hit it with his helm. As he was not, he had to settle for an irritated twitch of his wings. Maquillage, on the other hand, had a small and amused smile creep onto his faceplates.

"I fear that I have not seen him, young warrior. I only know of him by reputation, and no name." Maquillage said with regret.

Skylance stepped forward again. "Elder, they have a medic amongst them."

A soft murmur went through the elders. "We are in need of a medic." Maquillage stated.

First Aid hesitantly stepped up next to Prowl. "I'm a medic, sir. I'm afraid I am not the best though."

"Can you repair limbs?" Maquillage asked.

"Yes, sir." First Aid replied, glad that that was one of the first things Ratchet had taught him.

"Then you are skilled enough." came the blue medic's reply. "Rouge, please show the medic to the injured mech."

The femme, aged but not nearly as old as the blue mech, rose and stepped out of the jury's box. She gently took First Aid's servo, and led him from the room and the others.

"Skylance, please show our guests back to the hut." Maquillage ordered.

"As you wish." Skylance said with a profound bow.

OoOoOoOoO

"This is where our injured mech lives." Rouge stated as she opened a door to a hut.

A rather large family turned as the door opened, even though they did not seem surprised to have random bots simply walk into their house. Sparklings and younglings of all different ages either did a chore or played with each other on the floor. A black and orange mech rose from his seat, and set a lime green sparkling on the floor.

"Elder Rouge, it is an honor and a pleasure to have you in my humble domicile."the black and orange mech stated with a bow.

"Thank you, Fireglow."Rouge replied with a soft smile.

Fireglow, as that was his name, turned to First Aid. "I have not seen you in Volca before. Are you new to the village?"

"This is First Aid."the pink femme introduced. "He is an Autobot medic."

"An Autobot!" Fireglow exclaimed. "Forgive me for not noticing your insignia. No one has them here, so I am quite used to not looking for a bots alliance. A thousand apologies, I beg of you."

"Um, It's all right." First Aid said a bit nervously. "Where is this injured mech so that I can have a look at him?"

"By injured mech I take that you are speaking of my bondmate, Lightning." Fireglow stated. "He is in our berthroom. Come and follow, I will take you to him."

First Aid nodded as he went with the orange and black mech into an adjoining room, separated by a door. Rouge greeted a few of the creations (First Aid later found out that there were eight of them) and left.

"Here he is." Fireglow stated, taking the hand of a blue and white mech laying in a berth.

A soft moan came from the berthridden mech as Fireglow knelt down next to the berth.

"Light, there is a medic here to see you." Fireglow said softly. "He's come to fix you up. Primus has seen fit that you might be saved."

"M-medic?" Lightning asked, his voice just above a whisper.

"Yes, now hush and let him work." Fireglow replied.

First Aid took a deep breath as he began to observe the damage. He was quite surprised to see the mangled and infected pedes, losely wrapped up in makeshift bandages and torn cloth.

"What happened?" First Aid asked as he took medical supplies out of subspace.

"He left the sanctuary of Volca to look for an energon deposit." Fireglow replied, holding the hand of his injured mate. "He was unaware that he had wandered into a mine field and stepped on a land mine, setting it off."

"He's luck to be alive." First Aid said lowly as he shut off bleeding tubes and reconnected frayed and stripped wires.

"Indeed. Primus had an optic out for him that day." Fireglow said with a soft smile.

"How long has he been injured?" First Aid asked next, fusing metal together and shutting off more pain receptors.

"Lightning has been on deaths doorsteps for a fortnight now."

"Two weeks!" First Aid exclaimed, forgetting how soft spoken the bots here were.

"Yes. We have doctors here in Volca, but no surgeons or full medics." Fireglow said mournfully, overlooking First Aid's slip of voice. "We were simply trying to keep him comfortable until Primus saw fit for him to enter the Matrix. You can imagine our joy when we heard that there was a medic amongst the group of Autobots stopping here."

First Aid nodded, usuing his hand-turned blowtorch to finish fusing metal together. "I've set the injury. He is not to use it for another week, and then only some. He has a small infection. I'll mix up a salve for him tonight and give it to you before we leave in the morning."

"Oh, thank you, medic." Fireglow said, coolant in his optics. "We are eternally in your debt."

First Aid shook his helm. "Just think of it as my good deed of the day."

"Oh, but it is so much more then a good deed. You have saved my bondmates life." Fireglow replied. "Please, we must find some way to repay you."

"Please, it was nothing." First Aid said, stifling a yawn.

It had been a long day, and his internal chronometer was telling him that it was late. He also needed to refuel some before he pulled a Prowl.

"Oh, here you save the life of my sparkmate and I show such ingratitude by keeping you awake! You must be exhausted from your travels. Please forgive me." Fireglow exclaimed, his voice pleading as if he had committed a great sin.

"It's all right. Really."First Aid replied. "I probably should be going now though. He needs to rest."

As First Aid rose to leave, a blue and streaked white servo extended and took his own white and red servo. First Aid looked into watery blue optics as coolant silently trickled down the injured mech's cheek. First Aid smiled at him and pat his hand. The hand slipped off and First Aid bid them all good-bye. He was quite thankful when he had returned to the guest house, fueled up some, and collapsed onto the berth in recharge.

OoOoOoOoO

The next morning, a good many bots had risen to see the Autobots off. Skylance was there, acting as crowd control.

"Yes! Yes! They are Autobots and they are far to busy to stay here for another orn." Skylance called into the crowd that was questioning the yellow mech.

Random things were shouted from the crowd.

"Look at the doorwings on that mech! I haven't seen doorwings in so long!"

"Carrier, look at the red and yellow bots! They are Twins! The Twins! The only twins on Cybertron!"

"Would you look at the canons on that mech? I wouldn't mess with a mech with guns that big!"

"Did you hear what the white and red one did? They say he saved Lightning!"

"Skylance, I do not mean to be a burden but we must continue." Prowl said to the yellow mech.

"Of course. Just a few more breems. I promised Fireglow that he could be here to show you off." Skylance returned.

"I have to give him this salve too." First Aid added.

Prowl sighed, watching his internal chronometer with great care. If too much time went by, First Aid was just going to have to give the ointment to Skylance to give to Fireglow. It turned out that Prowl did not need to be impatient, as the orange and black bot emerged from the crowd, elbowing his way to the front.

"First Aid! I am very pleased to see you again. Lightning sends you his gratitude, and wishes you all a safe journey." Fireglow announced.

"Here the salve I promised you." First Aid said, slipping the small, round container into the other mech's hand.

First Aid felt something pressed into his own hand. He looked down and was surprised to see that a piece of glass had been placed in it. It was twisted white and blue with flecks of orange and black.

"It is a small payment for what you have done." Fireglow explained.

"Please, I don't need payment. I-"

"Then use it to remember the bots here." Fireglow said quickly, cutting the rather timid medic off. "And the mech you saved on your travels."

"Speaking of travels, we really have to get going." Prowl added.

"Of course." Skylance stated. "Everyone back! I'm opening the gate! If you get hit, it's your own fault!"

Bots created a large spance between themselves and the gate. The Elders of the village became visible, on a raised platform behind the crowd.

"May Primus protect you on your travels!" Maquillage called above the crowd.

"'Till all are one." Prowl called back as the gates squeaked and creaked open.

The Autobots quickly stepped through to the other side, and the gates again closed.

"'Till all are one, my friend!" Skylance called from his observation tower.

The Autobots transformed and again resumed their travels. The were very lucky to have found such a nice village that had accepted them. They were soon about to learn just how lucky.

* * *

Author's Note: Volca is my creation, as are the OC's (and any OC's used in the future and past chapters. If you wish to use them just ask for permission, I'll probably say yes.) Volca is a small Neutral Communinty. There are sparklings and younglings as Megatron has not gone on his rampage yet, wiping out Younglings/Sparklings/Neutrals.

I wanted to show that while the war was/is between Autobots and Decepticons, the innocent can and will get hurt as well. Volca focuses on art and the like instead of war, hense the blown glass and pottery. They also are 'old fashioned' in their speaking and are very family centered, if you didn't pick up on that.

Congrats to all who guessed what the code was! To those of you who didn't get it, it was PROWL. Also, please don't be too angry with Prowl about the bond. All will be explained in chapter 9! Be on the lookout!

Also, my dad is making me go on a month long computer binge! *gasp* The month is almost over though, and this 'month' shouldn't be more then 2 weeks. Anyways, after that everything should be back to normal. 'Till all are one! 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

"That was a nice village." Sunstreaker commented as the Autobot group traveled up the road.

They had been traveling for some joors now, the Village of Volca long behind them.

"I thought it was kinda wussy." Ironhide drawled, keeping a steady pace near the back of the group.

"They took us in." Prowl stated. "They didn't have to."

"Did you see the art work there?" Sunstreaker asked dreamily. "I haven't seen such art since the war started!"

"Eh, it was nice." Sideswipe said, if only to shut his brother up.

"Nice?" Sunstreaker exclaimed, nearly halting. "It was beautiful!"

"You are talking nearly as much as Bluestreak." First Aid commented, getting tired of Sunstreaker's raving as well.

Sunstreaker muttered to himself, falling silent. They continued to drive for another half joor or so until Sideswipe sped up to pull along side Prowl.

"Can we pull over?" Sideswipe asked.

"What for?" Prowl asked.

"I have to go."

"You should have gone before we left." Prowl stated.

"I didn't have to go then!" Sideswipe exclaimed, practically dancing in alt. mode. "Please? I really, really,_ really_ have to go."

Prowl vented. "Can't we just get a bit more mileage in?"

Sideswipe growled a bit, slowing down to get behind Prowl. Nearly five breems passed before Sideswipe pulled up beside Prowl.

"Prowl."

"No, Sideswipe. We are not going to get anywhere if we have to pull over. We will stop for mid-day energon in a joor." Prowl stated firmly.

"A joor! I can't wait that long! I'm about to lubricate myself here!"

"Thanks for the mental image, bro." Sunstreaker groaned.

Ironhide snickered a bit, enjoying Sideswipe's calamity.

"Please, Prowl? Can't we stop early? I'm sure the others could use the fuel." Sideswipe stated.

Prowl half sighed half growled. "Fine, if only to stop your whining."

"I am not whining. I am complaining!" Sideswipe exclaimed as they stopped and pulled off of the 'road'.

The road was practically non-existant, merely a dirt trail on the metal with some faded tire tracks in it from past travelers. Everything looked the same, both the road and off. Dirt on metal, dust on metal, large pieces of metal forming kinds of rocks on metal.

Sideswipe waisted no time in transforming and running behind a 'rock'. Prowl rolled his optics as he handed out mid-day rations. Sideswipe soon joined them, and took his ration as well. They fueled in silence for a bit, the comfortable quietness broken by Ironhide's rough voice.

"So, when do ya think we'll be catched up with this 'Con?" Ironhide asked, looking at Prowl.

"According to my calculations, we should be caught up with him in an orn or two." Prowl replied. "Kaon is only a four or five orn travel in alt. mode."

"I hope we catch the creep soon." Sideswipe said, taking a sip of his cube. "Can't wait to get back to Iacon."

"We've only been away for two orns." First Aid stated, drinking from his own cube of energon.

"I agree with Sideswipe." Sunstreaker commented. "I left my polish back at base. By the time we return, I'm going to be so faded it won't even be funny!"

"I'm sure we'll find it funny." Ironhide stated.

"Why would you bring polish?" Prowl asked, trying to find some logical reason for bringing polish on a dangerous mission.

"Why not?" Sunstreaker answered.

Prowl just shook his helm. He took out a second blue cube and began to hurriedly drain it. Ironhide watched him for a second, raising and optic ridge.

"Are you all right?" the red and black mech asked.

Prowl quickly swallowed the last sip in his cube. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"From what I hear, those cubes are pretty strong. You just drank two of them like they were nothin'." Ironhide replied.

"I just needed to restore my energy." Prowl replied.

"Well, so did we but you don't see us chugging explosive cubes." Sideswipe added.

"Ratchet gave him a dampener." First Aid spoke up. "He's using it to mask all of our signatures. Hense, why the Decepticons haven't attacked us yet since we're out in the open. It uses alot of energy."

"Oh." Sideswipe said simply. "Guess that makes sense."

Prowl rolled his optics as he picked up the empty cubes and put them back into his subspace. He checked his internal chronometer and then took a holo-map cube out of his subspace. The map showed where the Autobots were with five blinking red dots. Sunstreaker sighed dramatically when he saw it.

"That's it? It looks like we've just barely left Iacon! Kaon must be a billion miles from here." Sunstreaker exclaimed.

"We will be near the Decepticon capital before you know it." Prowl stated, turning off the holo-map and replacing it in his subspace. "We had best be moving again. It will be night soon."

"Will we stay at another Neutral village?" Sideswipe asked hopefully.

"We will come across one." Prowl replied.

"Yes. but will we stay there?" Sideswipe asked again.

"That will be up to the village." Prowl answered.

"We ain't gonna know 'till we get there." Ironhide rumbled, collapsing into his alt. mode.

"Ironhide is correct." Prowl agreed as he transformed himself. "Roll out!"

First Aid and the Twins transformed and fell into line, briskly driving with a renewed vigour. Stopping to refuel had recharged them both physically and mentally, preparing them for the long drive still ahead of them.

OoOoOoOoO

"Prowl, we've been driving for ages!" Sideswipe complained.

Prowl sighed. Sideswipe had been whining ever since the sun had set and the two moons had appeared appeared in the star spangled sky.

"We will get to the village in a quarter of a joor, Sideswipe." Prowl said in a very unamused voice.

Sideswipe moaned, pulling back alongside his Twin. They began to converse with each other in hushed tones, most likely complaining to each other about the length of their journey. Prowl was quite happy when the metal walls of a Neutral settlement came into view. It was set up rather similar to the outside of the last settlement was, but was more advanced. It had an electric force field around the outside. Prowl, sadly, did not know this.

"See, Sideswipe. The base is ri-Ah!" Prowl, who was ahead of the others, shouted in pain and shock.

The others instantly stopped and transformed as their squad leader was forced out of alt. mode, and lay seizing on the ground. First Aid ducked down to grab him, but Ironhide pulled him back.

"Don't touch 'em." Ironhide said quickly. "You'll get shocked too. Give 'em a breem."

By the time Prowl had stopped seizing, a bot had appeared in the watch tower. The yellow and white bot was laughing his aft off, although he was a good 25 astro-yards away.

"See you got a taste of our force field!" the bot shouted, his voice loud and deep and booming.

Prowl groaned as he sat up, holding his helm. First Aid helped him to his pedes,and steadied the tactician as his energy had been severely drained from the electric shock.

"What's the big idea?" Sideswipe asked.

"We don't want your kind here." the yellow and white bot shouted back.

"We mean you no harm." Prowl called back. "We are Autobots-"

"I know who you are, and we don't like your kind." the bot called back.

"Deceptcon lovers." Sunstreaker muttered.

"Now we have to fix our field 'cause your big aft ruined it!" the bot called back.

"I do not have a big aft." Prowl said lowly. "I apologize, sir, bu-"

"Sir?" the large bot boomed. "I'm a femme! Name's Daisy."

Ironhide chortled a bit under his breath, zooming in his optics to get a good look at this 'femme'. She, as it turned out to be, had very thick and bulky armour. Her colors were soft yellow and a blinding white. Her voice was the most masculine thing Ironhide had ever heard.

"Femme looks like a mech." Ironhide muttered, his face beaming with amusement.

"Get out of here, Autobots!" Daisy shouted.

"With pleasure." Prowl muttered, collapsing into his Datsun Fairlady X alt. mode.

The others transformed and followed. They drove a few miles away from the Neutral settlement before stopping. Prowl was the first to transform, and collapsed on the ground.

"Are you all right?" First Aid asked, using a hand-held scanner as he sent the beam over Prowl.

Prowl lifted a hand and let it flop down. "Fine."

"You need to refuel before you go into stasis lock." First Aid stated, taking one of Prowl's cubes out of his own subspace as he replaced the scanner.

Prowl took it as he sat up a bit, propped up against a metal rock. He drank it slowly as all of his systems were out of wack from the shock and he did not want to purge what energon they had. The others sat around some burning combustion sticks that they had brought for this very reason. They sipped their cubes and talked and laughed with each other.

Prowl sat still, fiddling with his half empty cube. His thoughts kept wandering back to his siblings back at base, and Jazz. He wondered how they all were.

_'Maybe you could comm. them'_ that little voice in his helm suggested.

_We are out of communications also would take a large amount of energy to try and call that far._

_'Why don't you open your bond and talk with your siblings?'_

_You,er, I know very well why I cannot do that. Besides, I am out of communications range, even with the bond. The very least could be the sending of feelings and emotions._

_'What's so wrong with that?'_

Prowl grumbled to himself. "Just mute it."

"What was that?" Sideswipe, who was sitting closest to Prowl, asked.

"Nothing." Prowl replied quickly. "I'm going to recharge. Good night."

Sideswipe just shrugged, turning back to the conversation he had been in. Prowl stretched out on the ground, close to the combustion sticks for warmth, but not close enough as to burn himself or get too hot. He closed his optics, and quickly drifted into recharge.

OoOoOoOoO

Sideswipe flipped over again, accidentally kicking Sunstreaker.

"Hey!" the yellow mech hissed under his breath, slapping his red twin's pede. "Bad enough I have to sleep in the dirt without you kicking me in the face!"

Sideswipe didn't apologize, and instead began to complain. "Who knew Prowl, the quiet and stoic mech, _snored_?"

Indeed, Prowl lay on his back, on odd position for a winged mech, his mouth was slightly open and a deep rumbling snore emitted from him. Sideswipe flipped over again and huffed.

"He's just tired." First Aid whispered from another side of the combustion sticks. "He normally doesn't snore."

"Just so happens that he picks tonight of all nights to do it!" Sideswipe exclaimed a bit too loudly.

"Mute it!" Ironhide growled.

"Like I'm louder then Prowl's being." Sideswipe huffed.

"At least he can't help it. You can, now mute it 'fore I do it for ya'." Ironhide grumbled.

First Aid sighed, getting up from his spot on the ground. He carefully went around the combustion sticks and knelt down beside Prowl. The others watched in silence as First Aid began to shake the sleeping Datsun.

Prowl snorted a bit, humming as he looked into First Aid's face.

"Prowl, get on your side." First Aid said in a soft, gently voice.

Prowl narrowed his optics, as if to try and see something far away.

"On your side, Prowl." First Aid repeated, just as soft.

Again Prowl stared at him with a blank and distant expression. Prowl shook his helm a bit and settled back into the dirt. He started to snore again, earing a groan from the others.

First Aid decided to take matters into his own hands. He sat the recharging SIC up, Prowl slumping forward, and then lay the Datsun back down in the proper position for a Praxian. Curled up on his side. Prowl's snoring immediately stopped and became muffled gasped.

"There. Now go to recharge." First Aid ordered, laying down right where he stood instead of going back to his spot.

There were no arguments as the other members of the squadron fell into recharge.

OoOoOoOoO

"On the road...again." Sideswipe sighed, keep a steady pace amongst the others.

"This dirt is driving me crazy!" Sunstreaker exclaimed. "When we get back to Iacon, I'm going to be filthy! I bet the others won't even recognize me."

"Stop yer whinin'." Ironhide rumbled. "It ain't that bad."

Sideswipe bumped his brother a bit. "Hey, chin up. Ironhide's right. It's not that bad. What's bad is Prowl's snoring."

Prowl nearly screeched to a halt. "I do not snore." he muttered before picking up the pace.

"Yes, you do." Ironhide contradicted.

"You do, Prowl." First Aid stated, as if the words of a medic would solidify it for the SIC.

"I do not." Prowl replied coldly.

Sunstreaker sped up until he was next to the Datsun. He went through is processor and data files until he found what he was looking for. The yellow Lamborghini turned up his speakers and made sure to roll down his windows, wanting Prowl and everyone else to hear every decibel of the sound.

Prowl would had scowled if he had been in bi-pedial mode. The sound of someone in very deep recharge and snoring like thunder floated from the yellow car's speakers.

"Anyone can make snoring noises into a microphone." Prowl stated blandly.

Sunstreaker growled in agitation. "Nobody made noises in a microphone. If we did, the noise would be much ruder. Admit it, Prowl, you snore."

"I will do no-" Prowl was not able to say anything more as photon charges began to rain down on the bots.

The five quickly screeched to a stop and transformed before their tires could even stop spinning. Optics surveyed and scanned the area. Weapons were charged up and aimed at random objects and pieces of debris that bounced across the dirt.

"Where did it come from?" First Aid asked nervously.

"No idea." Ironhide said, his cannons warmed up and readily to blow up anything that moved and proved hostile.

"Shh." Sideswipe ordered, straining his audios to listen for anything, or anyone.

Prowl suddenly jumped a bit, his doorwings twitching quickly for a moment. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Ironhide rumbled.

"Over there." Prowl pointed with his acid pellet gun towards some large crystal formations. "I saw something move."

Optics quickly swept the crystals. Their search proved futile.

"There's nothing there." Sunstreaker replied, his trigger finger hovering over the overly sensitive trigger of his weapon.

"There was something." Prowl replied firmly. He glanced again, a bit further from where he had originally saw 'it'. "There it is again!"

"I don't see-"

"I see something." First Aid cut off the red Twin. He pointed to a shadow that vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

Prowl suddenly saw the shadow again, but had no time to alert the others as red laser blasts began to fly out from that very area. Bots scattered and hid behind other crystals as the laser blasts didn't stop this time. They returned with their own blasts, green acid pellets and blue and red laser blasts and photon charges.

Sideswipe jumped as a ghost pain suddenly hit him in his shoulder, and a yelp was heard from Sunstreaker.

"Sunny!" Sideswipe shouted as he saw his brother fall into a rapidly growing pool of energon.

Sideswipe was separated from Sunstreaker though, so the red mech was not able to get to his brother. He fired at the point of origin from where the enemy fire was coming from. No mech had appeared, and the fires seemed to come straight from the shadows.

"Medic!" Sideswipe called above the blasts of multiply Autobot shots and only Primus knew how many Decepticons.

"On it" First Aid called back, being covered by Ironhide.

Sideswipe continued to fire lest he should fall as well.

"Frag." Sideswipe growled as his weapon refused to shoot any longer.

It was a type of gun that went off of magazines instead of a bots energy, as this mission required a bot to keep all of his energy in case of an emergency.

Sideswipe ducked even further behind the crystal he was behind. He dug into his subspace. He growled in frustration as he was unable to find a magazine in his cluttered subspace. Prowl was right, he needed to clean it out.

Speaking of Prowl, Sideswipe glanced at him and saw that he wasn't using photon magazines and his acid pellets instead.

"Prowl, I'm out!" Sideswipe shouted to the mech a few astro-yards away from him. "Toss me a mag!"

Prowl shot three more times before ducking behind the crystal he was behind and quickly reaching into his own subspace. Without even looking, a black magazine case was grabbed and launched at the red mech. He caught it easily and jammed it into his gun. He sighed in relief as it charged back up and he fired again.

"How many are there?" he shouted out to anybot who would listen.

"One." Prowl replied firmly.

Sideswipe jerked, his usually skillfully aimed shots ricocheting off of a crystal and diffusing on the ground.

"One?" Sideswipe exclaimed, dropping his servos to the side and staring at the black and white doorwinger

"Shot, now!" Prowl shouted as a black figure began to emerge from the opposite side of the battle field.

Sideswipe quickly turned to fire, but turned only in time to see a red blast hit him and explode on his chassis. A hot, searing pain crept through him as the ground rushed towards him, creating a hard bed for the frontliner as his vision blackened and warm energon flowed from his wound.

"He's changing his ammo!" Ironhide shouted. "He ain't usuin photons no more, he's usuin' those expodin' bullets."

" Acknowledged." Prowl returned.

The black figure came forward more, the distinct outline of a bot coming into view. It seemed that the closer he came, the deadlier he became. The shots came faster and faster from his blaster, that seemed automatic to say the least.

"Prowl, look out!" Ironhide shouted.

Prowl dodged a photon blast, skillfully aimed for his doorwings.

"Not that,_ that!"_ Ironhide shouted again.

Prowl looked as a small black dot was launched from the black bot, flying towards the doorwinger at an incredible speed. It landed on the ground and rolled the remaining feet towards Prowl until it clinked against his pede. Prowl gaped in horror at an unpinned grenade.

"Hit the dirt!" Prowl shouted as he tried to turn and run.

He didn't even turn around before a deafening sound hit his audios, and a searing hot pain surged through his frame. The pain was followed by a weightless feeling, and then everything went black.

* * *

Author's Note- Yes, some of you who have ever seen M*A*S*H will notice the snoring screen. I simply adapted it. I do not own M*A*S*H, nor do I own Transformers (just to get that out of the way.)

Uh-oh! Cliffhanger! Don't worry though! I have the next 5 chapters all ready written out. Anyone wanna try and guess who the Con is? If anyone does I will be completely shocked, as it is a new OC. I don't mean guess his name(you can try if you wanna though) I mean guess _what _he is.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

Ironhide groaned a bit as his systems began to re-boot. He knew that his motor functions were working so he began to try and get up, even before his optics onlined.

"Stay down." a familiar and gruff voice ordered, pushing him back down.

"Ratch?' Ironhide asked, trying to hurry the process of his optics onlining.

"Who do you think?" Ratchet scoffed as Ironhide's optics began to flicker before lighting up.

The red and black mech shuttered and unshuttered them a few times, recalibrating them and trying to focus. Ratchet soon came into view.

"Not the prettiest face I've ever woken up ta." Ironhide commented, earning himself a rather gentle slap to the cheek struts.

"How you feeling?" Ratchet asked, scanning and going over multiple monitors that were connected to the Weapons Specialist.

"I'll be better when I'm out of here." came the smug reply. "Where are the others?"

"Sideswipe is over there." Ratchet replied, pointing to a berth that was cut off from view by a curtain. "Sunstreaker is in the berth next to him."

"And First Aid?" Ironhide questioned.

"He sustained the least amount of damage, a mangled pede. He's resting in his berthroom until I deem him fit for duty." Ratchet said loudly and firmly.

Ironhide raised an optic ridge. "I'm not arguing with you."

"I wasn't speaking to you." Ratchet scoffed.

"Really? 'Cause you were lookin' right at me." Ironhide replied.

"I was talking to that fragger First Aid, right behind the door!" Ratchet shouted, shoving the med-bay door open and causing it to swing.

A startled cry came from the other side, followed by a thud and a groan. Ratchet opened the door the other way to reveal a downed First Aid, sitting there and looking up at Ratchet like a sparkling scared of a punishment.

"Get your aft back to your quarters before I call someone to drag you there." Ratchet seemed to growl.

First Aid quickly scrambled to his pedes before taking off down the hall, limping a bit. Ratchet sighed in vexation before going back to Ironhide and finishing his exam.

"Does this hurt?" Ratchet asked, taking one of Ironhide's pedes and flexing it.

Ironhide grunted a bit but shook his helm. "I can handle it. You never told me where Prowl was, by the way. Is he resting too? Kinda surprised he didn't sustain more damage, as that bomb was right under him. Lucky fragger."

Ratchet bit his bottom lip a bit. He didn't answer Ironhide, but instead questioned him as he rotated the red mech's shoulder joint. " Does this hurt?"

"No." Ironhide stated. "Where is Prowl?"

Ratchet vented as he dropped the servo. "We were hoping that you knew. He wasn't found with the rest of you."

"Found?" Ironhide asked.

"You were all found unconscious. First Aid had an emergency distress frequency so that if he became injured, we would automatically receive it." Ratchet explained. "He onlined first and said that there was a fight and then a bomb. Prowl wasn't found."

"Do the Twins know anything?" Ironhide asked, worried but not sounding as worried as he felt.

"Sunstreaker knows nothing and Sideswipe hasn't onlined yet. We got you here late last night." Ratchet finished his explanation.

Ironhide vented. "Sideswipe won't know where Prowl is either. He was shot before the explosion."

Ratchet nodded. He turned to leave. "When I come back, your aft better be in that berth. Along with the rest of you."

"Where are you going?"

"To Optimus. If none of you know anything, a search party has to be sent out." Ratchet replied, quickly disappearing past the swinging med-bay doors.

Ironhide watched the swinging doors a moment longer before laying back down. He was tired and ached all over. He shuttered his optics and quickly fell into recharge, a recharge haunted by black shadow figures and exploding tactitions.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl moaned, his optics flickering as he tried to re-boot. After onlining his optics, he was able to take in a very dark place. A cold draft chilled his frame, and some sort of liquid dripped onto his doorwings from above.

Prowl tried to move, only to find that his servos were pinned up above his helm. As he came more into consciousness, he found that he was _hanging_ from his servos above the ground. He groaned as his weight strained his all ready pained frame. What had happened? How had he gotten here?

Another moan came from his mouth again as it suddenly came to him. The fight, the shooting, the explosion. How had he gotten here though? Where were the others?

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to wake up." a voice echoed from the inside of the cold cave (as that was what it turned out to be).

The voice. _That voice._ It chilled Prowl more then any draft ever could, piercing his spark more then any blade could. It dripped with pure evil, soaked in vile venom. It was both seductive and repulsive at the same time.

The speaker finally came into view. He was tall and black as night. A pure, jet black that shimmered and appeared other colors when highlighted a certain way. He had a gun, a small sniper rifle (pistol sized) attached to his side by a clip, and what seemed to be a some sort of launcher in his servo.

Instinct made Prowl jerk away, causing him to hiss in pain as soon as he began to swing. The black mech chuckled a bit as he neared the wounded SIC. The SIC who bleed from nearly every part of his frame, thanks to the grenade. The black mech gave Prowl a little push, causing him to swing a bit more.

"At last. Prowl. Autobot second in command, head tacticion. First born of Clouddrift and Blaze and siblings to Smokescreen and Bluestreak, in that order. Born in the city of Praxus. Joined the Autobots as soon as he entered his adult frame and moved to Iacon. About as illusive as I am." the black mech grinned, listing off Prowl as if he had studied the mech since birth.

"You seem...to know alot...about me." Prowl gasped out, his swinging becoming less and less.

"I was sent to assassinate you." the black mech continued to grin, his denta glimmering and sending a shudder up Prowl's back struts.

"Then why...am I-"

"Here and alive?" the black mech finished. "Because I have other orders for you as well, and killings in cold energon's not my style."

Prowl grunted as if amused, even though he was far from it. "What do... you want? Who are you?"

"Names Whiplash."the black mech replied. "And I want info."

Prowl chuckled. "You're never... going to get me...to talk, Con."

"Con?" Whiplash asked, laughing soflty."I'm no Decepticon. I work for another."

"What else is there?" Prowl asked, slowly.

Whiplash shifted, letting light from a electric lantern hit his shoulder. The outline of an atom reflected the light into Prowl's optics, messing up his vision for a nanosec.

"I work for another." Whiplash repeated, sitting down on a stalagmite. "The atom stands for science and logic."

"Science and logic." Prowl repeated, trying to figure out what it meant.

"All will make sense soon enough, Prowl." Whiplash murmured in Prowl's audios, sending a cold chill down the hanging mech's back struts.

Whiplash started to leave. Before turning the corner of the cave, he turned around and smirked.

"You and your younger brother look a lot alike from a distance."

"What-"Prowl started, then stopped. His processor put two and two together so fast it hurt.

Bluestreak had been an accident. Bluestreak was not supposed to have gotten hurt or shot. This bot had though that Blue had been Prowl! His own sibling had been injured because of him.

Prowl growled a feral growl, a new kind of anger rising in him. How dare this mech injure his brother! Whiplash only laughed a bit before disappearing into another tavern. Prowl eyed the empty space where Whiplash had once been.

Besides the anger for his brother, another emotion plagued Prowl's very spark and processor. What was in store for _him_? How was he going to escape? His battle processor and logic computer were telling him that he had a very small chance of escaping, and an even small chance of surviving. He was already severely injured from the grenade, and Prowl couldn't even imagine what this non-Con/ non-Bot would do to him.

Prowl grunted a bit, trying to keep awake. His systems were forcing themselves into recharge. It was a short and downhill battle for the hanging mech, and he soon gave into the darkness that offered him some relief from all the pain and fear.

OoOoOoOoO

"Are you sure you want me to go?" Ratchet asked.

"There is no doubt in my mind that Prowl is injured." Optimus replied.

The two mechs were in the control room, a line of bots preparing for a search and rescue mission. Of the bots going were Bluestreak and Smokescreen,and Jazz. Optimus had been hoping that at least one of the Twins might have been able to go, or Ironhide, but they were still sore, injured, and recovering. Sideswipe had only woken up a few joors ago and was quite lethargic.

"First Aid is healed enough to go though." Ratchet stated, even though he was not arguing with the Prime.

"I understand that, but we have no idea of what Prowl's injuries are or how bad they are. First Aid can take care of things here with Wheeljack and Perceptor." Optimus said. "Sunstreaker, Ironhide, and First Aid have also been able to confirm the furthest point in which they traveled."

"Are you planning on driving there and then scouting?" Ratchet asked.

"No." Optimus answered. "Stormjet will be flying us there."

Stormjet was a military style rescue helicopter. He had open sides in alt. mode, and could easily fit close to ten bots in his holding area. He towered above the Prime, but was still a good deal smaller then Omega Supreme. This navy blue mech had been used for many distant rescue missions before, and had never failed anyone yet.

"Fine then." Ratchet answered firmly.

"You are going?" Optimus asked hopefully.

"Of course." Ratchet replied. "Give me half a joor to get First Aid situated and I will be ready."

"We have a joor before we are leaving." Optimus assured him. "Be ready by then."

Ratchet gave a curt nod before leaving to find First Aid. It wasn't a difficult task, as the young assistant medic was found in the infirmary monitering Sideswipe.

"How is he?" Ratchet asked.

"He is gaining strength and should be lucid between tonight and tomorrow." First Aid replied, adding another I.V. bag to Sideswipe's small collection of them. "Is there something you wanted?"

"I came to tell you that I am leaving with Optimus' search team and that you will be in charge here until I return." Ratchet stated.

"Me?" First Aid exclaimed. "But Ratchet-"

"No." Ratchet said firmly. "I don't have time for you to flip out. You'll be fine. Wheeljack and Preceptor are here if you need them, and if worst comes to worst I am a comm. link away."

First Aid vented. "I'll do my best."

"That's all that I ask." Ratchet returned, resting a hand on his assistant's shoulder.

Ratchet flinched as he checked his internal chronometer. He didn't have much time.

"I need your help before I leave." Ratchet stated.

"Yes?"

"Help me gather my tools." Ratchet replied.

First Aid nodded, hurrying to help Ratchet find the tools he would need and subspace them. As Prowl's condition was unknown, they prepared for anything from a mesh bruise to spark shock to a complete systems shutdown. First Aid then helped Ratchet fill a movable surgical tray and fill it with tools and bags of energon transfusions as well. The tray was wheeled into a special compartment in Stormjet.

The Autobots were now standing in Stormjet's open sides. A few sat on the edge, swinging their pedes as they waited for take off. Others, such as Optimus Prime, stood in the open doorway. The Autobots not going were crowded around a safe distance away.

"Teach that dirty 'Con a lesson for meh!" Ironhide shouted, rather upset that he was not able to go.

"Ah will, mark mah words!" Jazz shouted back, brandishing a laser weapon.

"Stormjet, take off." Optimus ordered.

"Yes, sir." Stormjet replied, starting up his rotating blades.

"'Till all are one." a cry went out from the bots on the ground.

"'Till all are one." came the muffled reply.

The Autobots in Stormjet gained more and more altitude until the bots on the ground were nothing but multicolored specks in a sea of gray. The whirlybird then began to make a straight course for the last place Prowl had been seen at.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl shouted. No, he didn't shout. Prowl _screamed_ in pain as his doorwings were pulled apart by clawed digits and an assortment of tools.

"You have such a lovely voice." Whiplash complimented as he pulled an energon stained claw out of the Datsun's doorwing.

Prowl gasped and fell limp, his intakes shuddering as he tried to cool down his overheated and overtaxed systems. Whiplash went to Prowl's front, dragging his black and energon blue hand across Prowl's shoulder and chassis until he had traced a blue pattern to the SIC's cheek. He cupped it, pressing his own black forehead to Prowl's.

"I'd love to hear you scream my name."he whispered in the Datsun's audio.

Prowl gasped, trying to pull back but being held firm as he was still hanging from the ceiling by his servos. Prowl's optics widened as Whiplash continued to fiddle with Prowl's frame, cutting a main vein here or slicing his protoform there.

Prowl had been abused nonstop for some joors now. His doorwings looked like skeletons and his protoform dripped energon like it was an organic waterfall.

"You look so hot." Whiplash commented, curling around Prowl a bit to undo his black, white, and blue armour. "Let me help you with that."

Prowl shuttered his optics as he heard the distinct sound of metal hitting rock as his armour was slowly peeled off and dropped to the floor. Prowl opened his optics and pleaded to Whiplash to stop.

"And why should I do that?" Whiplash chuckled. "I'm having so much fun."

"I-I..." Prowl stuttered, trying to think of an excuse. "I'm no good at...what-what you want."

"Who told you that?" Whiplash asked, undoing Prowl's pede and servo armour.

Prowl shook his helm. "No-nobody. That's the point."

A sick smile crept across Whiplash's face, making Prowl fear him in a way he had never feared a bot before. "You mean you have never interfaced?"

"Never." Prowl replied quickly.

"How wonderful." the words dripped with lust and venom. "A virgin. Never had one before."

Prowl gasped at the terrible blunder he had made. "No, please!"

"What, saving yourself for somebot in particular?" Whiplash asked in mock concern."Not that it'd matter."

Prowl let his helm hang. No, he was not saving himself for 'somebot in particular'. Whiplash smiled again, an evil glint in his optics. He tore off Prowl's cod piece, exposing a valve.

"Oh!" Whiplash exclaimed in pleasant surprise. "How wonderful. A carrier."

Nobody,_Nobody_ but Ratchet knew that Prowl was a carrier. Such information could be used by the enemy in ways Prowl didn't want to think about.

Without his cod piece, Prowl felt exposed and naked. Now he really was to a certain extent. A terrible tapping digit appeared on his chest-plates.

"Open up." came the lustful, seductive whisper.

Prowl shook his helm. "No."

"No?" Whiplash repeated.

Prowl chuckled despite the fear and pain. "No."

"Then I'll make you."

"I'd like to see you try." Prowl spat back.

"It's simple, really." Whiplash stated as if giving a medical speech at an university. "All you have to do is cut the chassis here-"

Prowl gasped as a blade slit the side of his chest plates, the metal half clattering to the floor with the rest of his armour.

"And here!"

A second cut brought the other piece down. Prowl gasped and bit his glossa to keep from crying out again. He was now completely exposed as his weak, thrumming spark cast a soft light into the room.

"My what a pretty spark you have." Whiplash commented as he slid back his own chest plates to merge with Prowl.

"No, please!" Prowl shouted. "I'll tell you whatever you want."

"I doubt that." Whiplash commented, quickly closing the gap between the two bots.

Prowl shuttered his optics and looked away. He could feel the heat from the other's frame and exposed spark. He could feel the other's spark jump forward in eagerness to attach to his own spark that was trying to shirk back. Whiplash's frame connected to Prowl's, and Prowl's own spark began to edge forward despite his attempts to stop it.

"Come on." Whiplash urged. "I know you want me. Your own spark is coming for me despite your attempts."

The first tendrils of light began to emerge from both sparks, Prowl's shorter and still trying to draw back. Prowl cried out as he felt the other's spark nudge his own. Just as the two sparks were about to fully merge, Primus took pity on the exposed Autobot. A monitor beeped from somewhere in the cave.

"Are you fragging kidding me?" Whiplash shouted, disconnecting from Prowl before the merge happened. "Now of all times for him to call!"

Whiplash stormed away from Prowl. "I'm coming back for you!"

Prowl hung forward and went limp from relief. The relief would be short lived though. Who knew what that sadistic mech would do to him next. Only Primus knew, and Primus was who Prowl cried out to from the very bottom of his spark.

* * *

So many questions answered now, right? Poor Prowl. He's not having much fun, is he? *maniacal laugh that ends in a squeak* Another cliff hanger, though. Bruhahaha.*cough cough*


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

Stormjet flew low to the ground, his rotating propellers kicking up dust and charred crystal fragments as he landed. Ratchet, Optimus, Smokescreen, Bluestreak and Jazz all hopped out and allowed the tall mech to transform. The navy blue mech stretched out his backstruts a bit.

"That was some distance." Stormjet commented as he shifted his blades into a more comfortable position.

"Spread out and look for any evidence that Prowl is here, was here, or in what direction he is in." Optimus ordered.

The two doorwingers and the visored mech saluted before spreading out. Bluestreak wandered back and forth, observing the ground with such scrutiny that it would have made Hound, an expert tracker, both proud and envious. Smokescreen looked around tall, chipped and charred crystal formation as Jazz did the same. Optimus scouted about with Ratchet.

Smokescreen found a good deal of energon pooled up and dried on the ground. Charred burn marks in the ground surrounded a large disturbed area.

"I think I've got something." he called.

Ratchet and the others checked Smokescreen's area. Ratchet scanned the energon. He shook his helm.

"It's Sideswipe's." Ratchet said.

Bluestreak suddenly gasped as he nearly stepped in a dark blue puddle of energon only a few astro yards way from the energon Smokescreen had found. It turned out to be Sunstreaker's though.

"Primus." Jazz muttered as he looked over a crystal that was not only charred and chipped, but _exploded._ "This must'a been where ta' bomb went off."

Jazz was dead right. A large area surrounded the charred crystal, disturbed dust and dirt and energon splattered on the ground. Only a few confetti like pieces of the green grenade shell were found.

Jazz's optics widened as he found a black and charred...thing. It had a long snout and looked to have been white at some point. It was nearly melted as well as exploded. He scooped it up without hesitation.

"Ah found Prowl's acid pellet gun!" Jazz called.

He looked about the ground, noticing footsteps in the dirt going to a very disturbed area. From the looks of it, a frame had been there and was quite literally dragged away as a large trail went off into the distance.

"There was no fight in this area." Optimus stated as he too observed the area. "It is safe to say that Prowl was unconscious when he was taken."

Bluestreak shuddered as he looked closer at the trail. Large quantities of energon was mixed into the dirt, and left it's own trail.

"Dirty 'Cons!" Smokescreen shouted, kicking the beginning of the trail and throwing the dust and dirt into the air.

"Calm down, Smokescreen." Bluestreak said, placing a hand on his brother's doorwing.

"We'll get 'em and 'ta 'Con." Jazz said firmly.

"Before we go on any missions of revenge." Optimus interjected. "Prowl needs to be found first."

"Agree." Ratchet said. "Stormjet!"

"Coming." the mech replied.

He had been refueling as he had flown in one orn what Prowl and his squadron took a few orns to do.

"We're moving out." Optimus ordered.

"Need a lift?" Stormjet offered, transforming and landing on the ground.

"We will be hoofing it from here on out." Optimus stated. "We need to follow the trail. If we're in the air it will be more difficult to follow."

"Got it." Stormjet replied. "I'll follow along."

The others transformed as Stormjet took off into the air, going as low as he could without kicking up too much of a wind.

"Roll out!" Optimus ordered, taking the lead with Ratchet close behind him.

"Don' ya' worry, Prowler." Jazz said lowly to himself. "We're comin' for ya'."

OoOoOoO

Prowl didn't open his optics as he heard that mech come back again. How long had it been since he had left? A few klicks? Possibly a few joors? Orns even? He had no strength to lift his head to look at his captor, and braced himself for the oncoming pain, _or worse._

Nothing happened. Prowl dared himself to look only to see a bright red energy ax swing for him. He cried out and ducked his head as he waited for it to strike him. He heard it strike, but felt no pain. In fact, he only felt sparks on his chassis as it struck again, a metallic ring filling the cave. Without warning, Prowl fell to the floor with a heavy thud and a moan. Strong arms were propping him up, and something cool pressed to his lips.

"Drink this, now." Whiplash said sharply.

Prowl turned away from it. He wasn't stupid enough to drink this obviously toxic drink.

"It's not poison." Whiplash reassured him, shoving the cube into his partially open, dry, cracked lips.

He tilted it back, forcing the pink liquid into Prowl's mouth much too fast. His automatic swallowing reflex made him drink some of it, but the rest was coughed and sputtered out as he couldn't handle so much in his mouth at once. The cube was thrust into him again with the same results. In the end, half the cube was on Prowl and half of it was in him.

"W-why-"

"I have orders to interrogate you, probe you for information, and kill you." Whiplash said bluntly, helping Prowl to his pedes and forcing him to walk.

"Then why don't you?" Prowl gasped out.

"I told you, I don't kill in cold energon." Whiplash stated. "I'm more of a hunter. I'm releasing my prey and giving him a head start. If I were you, I'd take it."

They now stood at the entrance of the cave. Prowl had no idea where they were. Everything looked the same. Gray, dusty, and dirty. North and south could be the same, as could east and west. Prowl's Global Positioning System was broken, as was his comm. link and emergency's frequencies.

"Get out of here." Whiplash growled, tossing Prowl to the ground.

Prowl gasped for a second. He propped himself up and looked at Whiplash. The mech looked serious. Prowl was serious too. He was _seriously_ getting out of there. Ignoring every singly ounce of pain his body screamed at him, he forced himself to transform and took off faster then he ever thought possible.

Whiplash smirked, his jet black armour glinting in the setting sun.

"Run, my prey." he whispered into the wind. "I will find you again, I promise you that."

Whiplash flung his helm back, his armour highlighted purple and green and blue in the light. He shouted into the soft breeze.

"In the name of Science and Logic! For a new Cybertron!"

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl didn't just drive. He _ran_. He went until he could physically go no longer and his systems forced him out of alt. mode and onto his pedes. Pushing past the dizziness and the pain he continued to run. His run consisted of a stumbling stagger, but it did the job.

He ran until it was well past twilight and into the dusk. He could physically go no longer, having pushed himself beyond the limit plus some. He collapsed to the ground, deleting every warning in his HUD and then disabling it. He would rather not know the exact moment of his death.

He needed energon and needed it now. Prowl moaned, having no strength to get up and look through his subspace. Looking to his side, Prowl was surprised to find a large, elevated crack in the ground. It look like a cave had tried to rise out of the ground, and got stuck half-way. Maybe, just maybe he could squeeze in there and rest.

Not bothering to get up, Prowl half crawled half dragged himself towards it and pressed his shredded doorwings as flat to his back as they would go. He wriggled and squirmed, numb to the pain now. Most likely in shock. After a few breems and almost panicking for fear of gotten stuck, he slipped in and fell two astro-yards to the ground.

He forced his lights on, illuminating the dark cave. It was actually quite roomy despite it's outward appearance. He fit quite well, as long as he lay down. He wasn't planning on getting up any time soon though.

"Energon." Prowl muttered, prying his dented subspace open as he propped himself against the wall of the cave

He began to pull thing out of it and throw them to the ground. An empty, mini energon cube was smashed with extra anger for taunting him. Prowl inhaled deeply as he pulled out an electric blue, be it mini sized, but still, energon. He had slugged it down in mere klicks and dropped it to the ground. A package of energon goodies were devoured in record time and the crinkly wrapper tossed to the ground.

"More."Prowl weakly prayed to Primus."Please."

Instead of finding energon, Prowl lifted out a tiny beaded bracelet. Images soon began to flash through his helm of a small youngling and a white and blue femme.

_"Thank you for coming so quickly." a lanky, green femme said._

_"What is the problem? I wasn't given much information over the comm. link." another femme asked._

_She had been called to the City of Praxus Youngling Education Center. She sat now in the principals office for the younger grades, her son sitting outside on a bench._

_"It has to do with your mech creation, Prowl." the green femme, named Forest, stated._

_Clouddrift bit back a moan. "What is it this time?"_

_"He struck another youngling and has been extremely irritable." Forest explained._

_"He hit another creation?" Clouddrift asked in shock. _

_Prowl had never been physically violent before, be it small, but still._

_Forest nodded."They were given an art project to do. They had to string beads on a piece of wire. Someone tried to take the beads from Prowl without asking at he retorted with violence."_

_Something didn't add up here. Prowl, the mechling with a highly advanced logic processor, had struck someone else over such a small matter? Clouddrift simply nodded._

_"He has been suspended for the day." Forest said. "And tomorrow he will be made to apologize."_

_"I understand." Clouddrift said. "Thank you for explaining this to me."_

_Forest smiled and nodded as Clouddrift got up. It was a bit difficult, being heavily sparked with her second. She exited the principals office and Prowl instantly slid from the bench. They walked side by side in silence for some time. After walking up the third block, Clouddrift broke the silence at long last._

_"All right." she said. "What happened."_

_"Principal Forest told you." Prowl replied._

_"I don't think she knew the entire story, did she now?" Clouddrift questioned._

_"No." Prowl muttered, unable to lie to his carrier._

_"Now tell me what really happened." Clouddrift ordered firmly, yet still soft and kind._

_"It doesn't matter." Prowl replied as they reached their house._

_He let go of her hand and started to head towards the door, his doorwings hanging limply behind him._

_"Prowl." Clouddrift said firmly. "Look at me when I am speaking to you."_

_Prowl stopped and turned, looking his carrier right in the optics. They were filled with coolant that he would not allow to flow. Clouddrift knelt down next to the rather small-for-his-age bot and placed a hand on his shoulder._

_"Prowl, I am not angry at you." Clouddrift said softly, not reprimending him as he hung his helm. "I am disappointed, but I am not angry."_

_Prowl jerked as his intakes hitched and Clouddrift lifted his helm to look into his optics, that silently flowed. _

_"H-he was calling me names." Prowl stated, trying to stop the flowing coolant and his hitching vents. "He said t-that I was a freak and that I-I didn't belong there."_

_"Who, Prowl?" Cloud asked softly, angered but not showing it._

_Her sparkling, a freak? Yes, he had a highly advanced logic processor, but that was out of his control. A birth defect had upgraded his processor far beyond even that of intelligent adults. He had a battle computer that was said to be dormant until he reached a certain age, but acted up and activated at times. He couldn't control it when logic and strategy completely took over._

_"A youngling in my class." Prowl sniffled, his processor telling him now how illogical it was to cry. _

_"Did you strike him, Prowl?" Clouddrift asked._

_Prowl hung his helm again, his intakes hitching worse as his doorwings trembled in shame._

_"Yes." he said in less then a whisper._

_"Prowl." Clouddrift scolded softly. "We've raised you better then that."_

_"I-I didn't mean to!" Prowl suddenly exclaimed, not yelling but finally breaking loose. "He kept getting closer, he hit my beads and went to hit me. I-I was only trying to push him away...but I did it too hard."_

_"Nobody saw what he did to you?" Clouddrift asked._

_"A few other youngling." Prowl said, calming down some. "After I hit him though, he went crying to the class director."_

_"I see." Clouddrift said. "Prowl, have you ever been struck before?"_

_Prowl shuffled a bit, and found the ground much more interesting then his carrier's face. Clouddrift sighed as she pulled her creation into an awkward hug, it being awkward only because of her jutting stomach armour. He sniffled a bit into her armour, but nothing more. _

_Cloud broke the embrace and pulled herself to her pedes. She took Prowl's hand and led him into the house before sitting him down at the table with a cube of energon for each of them._

_"I heard that you were in an activity before all this happened." Cloud began._

_Prowl nodded while taking a sip of his energon. He set it down and wiped his mouth off with his servo._

_"We where supposed to string beads for jewelry." Prowl stated. _

_"Did you get to finish yours?" Clouddrift asked._

_Prowl shook his helm. "Some of the beads rolled under a storage cupboard. I still have the string though."_

_Prowl opened up his subspace, something he had recently gotten with his youngling upgrade, and pulled out a piece of wire. It was a bit bent in places, but still held it's main shape._

_Clouddrift thought for a second before rising. She went into a storage cupboard on the wall and started to rummage about._

_"I know I have something in here somewhere." Cloud muttered to herself as she banged things about. "Maybe I got rid of it after your upgrade, but I could swear that I-Ah! Here it is."_

_She pulled a large jar out with a loose screw-on lid. It was half-way filled with an assortment of buttons and beads, and some loose wire lay balled up on top. Clouddrifthad used it for when Prowl was a sparkling and found building blocks a bit below him and needed something a bit more challenging._

_"Do you think that maybe we could do our own craft here?" Clouddrift asked._

_"Can we?" Prowl asked, his doorwings perking up a bit in excited hope._

_"I don't see why not." Cloud smiled as she unscrewed the lid and dumped the beads out on the table._

_"I'm going to make you a bracelet." Prowl announced, taking up pink and white and ivory beads and making a pattern of them._

_Clouddrift sat down and cut some of the old wire. She silently began to string her own beads, using round and square beads of green and blue. A few even had glyphs on them._

_"Carrier." Prowl asked after a few breems. "May I see your servo?"_

_"Of course." Cloud smiled as she offered him one._

_Prowl wrapped the large bracelet over her wrist and twisted the ends together. They jutted out for only a second before Prowl saw them and bent them down. Clouddrift lifted her servo to inspect the pattern of pink, white, and ivory beads in that order._

_"It's beautiful, Prowl." Cloud said to the beaming youngling. "Thank you."_

_Prowl hugged her side._

_"I have something for you too." Cloud said as she took the small, thin servo and slid a bracelet over it._

_It hung from his servo and slid down it as he lifted it up to scrutinize it._

_"Hey!" Prowl exclaimed. "It has my name on it!"_

_"I know." Cloud replied, planting a kiss on his forehelm. _

_Prowl let his servo hang, and his doorwings twitched in irritation as the too big bracelet slid to the floor. He knew that he was small for his size, the other younglings let him know that to no end. One day though, he would be bigger and they would have to listen to him._

_Prowl scooped it back up. He looked at it, his logic processor working overtime to figure out a solution. His doorwings perked up as an answer suddenly hit him._

_"I know! I'll keep it in my subspace!" Prowl announced, placing the treasure in his compartment. He attached himself to his carrier's pede. "Thank you , carrier. I'll keep it in my subspace for ever and ever."_

_"I'm sure you will." Cloud humored as she pat his helm._

"For ever and ever." Prowl rasped as he placed the trinket back in his subspace.

His digits clinked against another item. He pulled out the decorative knife. More images from his past flashed before his optics. An attack. _The_ attack. The Attack on-no, the massacre in Praxus. The explosions that had him frantic to protect his siblings, Smokescreen and Bluestreak. The bombs that went off in every street. The arial attacks that blew up anything left standing.

A mech, that used to be red and orange, lay face first in the ground as pink energon pooled around him , his name Blaze. A femme lay in his servos, her hand cradling his cheek.

_"Take care of your brothers, Prowl." Clouddrift said softly, static lacing her voice._

_Prowl, now an adult mech in the Autobot army, cradled his bleeding carrier._

_"Hold on, carrier." Prowl pleaded. "Help will arrive soon. The medics-"_

_"Will be able to do nothing." Clouddrift finished."It's too late, Prowl."_

_"Carrier-"_

_Clouddrift placed a digit to his lips, silencing him. 'Please', Prowl lipped. _

_"I'm sorry, Prowl." Clouddrift gasped as her intakes stalled._

_Her mouth parted slightly in a half-sparked gasp. Prowl's grip on her tightened as her frame fell limp and her color faded to a silvery, deathly gray and she exvented._

_"Carrier." Prowl gasped out, finding that the coolant in his optics refused to flow._

_"Prowl?" a voice called out from the 'doorway' that had once been their home._

_"Bluestreak, do not come any closer." Prowl ordered._

_Running footsteps told him that his youngling brother, just barely old enough to join the Autobots, had disobeyed his order. _

_"Prowl, where are you?"Bluestreak called out, following his sibling bond. "Why are you in here? Where are you, exactly?"_

_"Bluestreak! I thought I told you to stay put." a second voice stated._

_"Smokescreen, get Bluestreak out of here now." Prowl ordered._

_"Prowl?" Smokescreen asked, curious as to why his brother was here instead of scouting the next street._

_"Do not come-" Prowl stopped as the two winged frames peered over the rubble at where he was kneeling, their carrier's gray frame still in his lap._

_Prowl had found his sire gray and dead._

_"Sire! Carrier!" Bluestreak nearly screamed, horrified at the amount of energon on the floor and smeared up Prowl's chassis. _

_Was that-that a limb next to the disintegrated data-pad shelf? _

_"Prowl?" Smokescreen breathed in disbelief._

_Prowl gingerly lay down their carrier. He looked up into the two tear-stained faces, wondering why he wasn't crying himself. He could ponder that later though. He thrust his servos out as Bluestreak tried to rush past him, screaming and crying hysterically._

_"Blue, you can't do anything." Prowl said, holding back the kicking and screaming bot._

_"No! N-no! Let me go you fragger! Carrier, sire, please!" Bluestreak cried out._

_"Smokescreen, help me." Prowl begged, Bluestreak doing a number on his frame as he kicked and punched._

_"Why aren't you crying?" Smokescreen asked, dazed and tears streaming down his face. "Your cheeks are dry."_

_"There is no time for that." Prowl stated. "Bluestreak can't be here."_

_"Why are you not upset?" Smokescreen asked._

_"Smokescreen-" Prowl grunted as he tried to pin Bluestreak's servos behind his back._

_"Why are you not upset, you bastard?" Smokescreen shouted._

_"What's goin' on in here?" a gruff voice called._

_"Ironhide." Prowl called, still struggling with Bluestreak as the mech cried out again. "We have a situation."_

_"Of course we have a situation! The entire damn city's been blown up!" Ironhide exclaimed as he picked his way over the rubble, closely followed by Optimus Prime._

_Optimus looked at the first tear stained face, optics glaring at Prowl and then staring at the frames on the floor as blue and red doorwings twitched. He looked at the second tear-stained face, that was screaming and fighting the third winged mech._

_"What is going on?" Optimus asked._

_"Optimus, sir-"_

_Bliestreak fell limp in Prowl's servos at that moment, sobbing hysterically. "Carrier, sire."_

_Prowl waisted no time in dragging his brother out of there and outside. Once outside and the devastating sight away from his optics, Bluestreak launched himself at Smokescreen and continued sobbing. Smokescreen clung back and stroked the gray helm, glaring at Prowl above the gray doorwings._

_Optimus Prime and Ironhide were coming back out of the demolished building. Prowl quickly turned to Optimus._

_"Optimus Prime, sir." he said military style, taking the tradition military stance."I apologize for rushing out on you. I-"_

_"I understand, Prowl." Optimus said, resting a large, worn hand on the Praxian's shoulder. "I am sorry for your loss."_

_Prowl only gave a nod of his helm as he looked back at his brothers. With a saddened spark, he put up strong firewalls and blocked his brother's bonds at that very moment. The looks on their faces were firmly engraved into his processor and burnt into his spark. The anger and betrayal and hurt on Smokescreen's face and the confusion and fear and betrayal and hurt on Bluestreak's face were something that he would never be able to forget._

_"It is for the best." Prowl whispered as he went to go drag the bodies out of their old home. "You will never feel pain like that again, I promise you."_

_As he kicked up a pile of rubble, a shimmer caught his optic. He bent down and brushed it aside, revealing a stylus-like device. He brushed it off, scrubbing it with his digits. '_ _Blaze and Clouddrift Junia 17 24-' shone up at him. His parent's bonding relic. A blade engraved with the date of their bonding. He quickly subspaced it and went about his dutys, ignoring the pain in his spark and the immense emptiness and alone feeling that engulfed him._

Prowl slowly replaced the relic. His digits brushed against a small cube of energon, and everything was instantly forgotten as it was gulped down in two droughts. It clattered to the floor as he slumped. He was about to fall into recharge or unconsciousness when something hit him.

He still had the spark dampener on. That meant that Whiplash would have an even harder time finding him, as well as help. He was also dangerously low on energon and energy. He had firewalls up for more then his dampener; he had them up for the bond. He was running so low on energy, logic and strategy were telling him that he needed to ditch one.

**Energy levels low and decreasing. Function for disabling Sibling Bond and Spark Dapener on. Delete one function.**

'Cancel' Prowl chose.

**Cancellation declined. Deletion of one function needed.**

With a heavy sigh, Prowl chose 'Continue'.

**Continuing. Loading...loading...loading.**

**Activate Sibling Bond or disable Spark Dampener. **

'Activate Sibling Bond' Prowl reluctantly chose, blackness seeping into his optics.

**Activating Bond. Loading...Loading...Loading...Load-**

With a delirious sigh, Prowl slumped and flopped over to the floor, blackness completely filling his vision and blissful ignorance filled him.

OoOoOoO

Bluestreak shouted in pain as he veered off of the road. Smokescrean hissed and followed suit, slamming on his breaks.

"What's wrong with the both of you?" Ratchet asked as the two transformed, a hand over their sparks.

Neither one answered as they stared at each other in disbelief.

"Smokey-"

Smokescreen nodded as he put a dampner on the pain that wasn't his. The burning in his doorwings disappeared as did the pain in his pedes and chassis and servos. Bluestreak did the same.

"It's Prowl." Bluestreak said in a dazed voice.

"Prowl?" Optimus asked. "What of him?"

"The bond. It's back. Restored. We felt his pain." Bluestreak tried to ramble, falling short as even words failed him.

"We know where he is." Smokescreen said shortly.

Optimus' hand flew to his comm. link.

: Stormjet, get down here : Optimus ordered. : We know where Prowl is :

* * *

Author's Note- It has recently been brought up to me that 'Whiplash' is not my own (nor my lil' sis's) creation. A fellow fanfictioner called 'Gatekat' has an OC of the same name. I have contacted them and they have agreed that it was all right for me to use that name. Thank you.

So much answered, huh? How many of you still hate Prowl for shutting off the bond? CLIFFHANGER!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

It was so cold. Why was it so cold? He shivered a bit, his skeleton-like doorwings painfully vibrating. What he wouldn't give for a warming blanket. And energon. Heck, he'd completely forget about the blanket just for a cube of energon! Nothing fancy, no high grade or anything. He would drink machine grade if he had to.

Prowl moaned softly to himself. His concept of time was as distorted as his concept of everything else. Pain, fear, hunger and delirium all blended together in a dizzying, slow manner. It made one's head fog up and blur all at the same time.

-Don't worry, Prowl. We're coming for you.-

Prowl gasped. What was that? Had Whiplash bugged his systems, making the black mech able to track him no matter what? Had he gotten others with him? Nothing but cold fear and dread and confusion filled his spark, even though a soothing presence seemed to try and calm him.

Prowl curled up again, his back to the entrance he had squeezed through. There was nothing to do. There was no way to save himself. All he could do was wait for Whiplash, and wait for death.

OoOoOoOoO

"Stop it, Smokey." Bluestreak ordered, rather harshly at his older brother.

"I'm just trying to calm him. All I can feel is fear from him." Smokescreen replied.

"Well, talking to him isn't making it any better. I should know, for one. Using the bond link is only making him confused." Bluestreak prattled.

Smokescreen sighed in irritation as he stopped his reassuring, soothing pulses of calm feelings to Prowl. For the past joor all Bluestreak and Smokescreen had been able to feel from Prowl's end of the bond was spark wrenching fear. The feelings were getting both stronger and weaker. Stronger, in the sence that they were getting closer. Weaker, as in the fact that Prowl was fading away.

"Are we almost there?" Ratchet asked.

"We should be close." Smokescreen replied.

"Close? We should be right on top of him! How is he doing that, anyways? He seems to be coming from the ground, but unless he learned how to bore into the ground- but that's impossible." Bluestreak rambled.

"Cool it, mech." Jazz stated.

"Are we near enough to scout on pede?" Optimus asked.

"I think so." Smokescreem answered.

"Then transform and spread out." Optimus ordered, transforming himself.

The others started to look about. Optimus had ordered for Stormjet to stay put, in case Prowl was found and needed emergency lift.

"The trail's leadin' this way." Jazz called out, pointing to energon smears and smudges on the ground.

"They lead towards that cave." Ratchet mused aloud.

"Cave? It looks like a raised crack." Smokescreen scrutinized.

"I don't think any Praxian could fit in there, with doorwings anyways." Bluestreak stated. "Although, a sparkling might be able to fit."

"Well, the energon scrapes under it." Ratchet stated, shining his headlights on the upper part of the cave's top. He was crouched low, as was everone else. "I can't see into it. The angles all wrong."

"Maybe one of us should slip in an' take a peek." Jazz suggested.

"You're the only one that can fit, Jazz." Optimus said.

"Ah'll go then." Jazz said firmly.

He lay down on his stomach armour, and turned on his lights. He had extra lights behind his optics, and turned those on as well. It was a very tight squeaze, even for him. If Prowl was in there, then he must be missing more then armour and doorwings. He must be missing an entire part of his chassis just to fit in!

With one final scoot, Jazz fell two astro-yards down. He crouched low, and turned back to the cave's entrance.

"Ah'm in." he called out.

There wasn't much of an echo. The cave must be simply a covered hole in the ground. All he had to do was turn around, and the gray protoform of Prowl was in his sights. He yelped in surprise, as his optics illuminated the slowly dripping, shredded doorwings.

"Ah-Ah've gott'em!" Jazz shouted. "He's hurt bad."

"Can you get him out?" Optimus called in.

Jazz crept forward, quietly. He was almost afraid to make too much noise, even though he had no reason to not be loud.

"Prowler?" Jazz asked softly, resting a hand on the Datsun's shoulder, sticky with energon.

Prowl jerked away from his touch, making Jazz snap back. Prowl scrambled to find his servos, but only slid back to the ground. He peeked over his doorwings, his optics hazy and nearly white. He seemed unsure of Jazz's presence, and lay back down.

"Ah don' think so." Jazz called out. "'E's hurt too bad an' Ah don' think Ah could fit him back through that hole."

Jazz heard talking from the outside, mainly the voices of Optimus and Ratchet. After a few breems, Jazz was given his orders. He was to stay with Prowl and keep him calm as they tried to dig them out. A silver, alminum-like warming blanket was tossed in. Jazz used it to cover Prowl up, to try and keep impurities out of his wounds.

Without a word of warning, dust particals and pebbles and debris started to rain down on Jazz and the covered Prowl. The bangs of Prime's electric axe rang out as he struck the mixture of rock and metal. Odd for rock to be here, a rather organic substance. Must have been a random mixture of minerals.

"Shh." Jazz said gently as Prowl cried out and began to shake.

He began to make gentle motions on the side of Prowl's helm, one of the only places he could touch that wasn't completely covered in energon blood. He pulled the blanket up higher on the injured mech, making sure to keep the dirt off of him.

He sat with Prowl half in his lap for nearly a joor. Prowl had remained unnervingly silent the entire time, barely moving at all and never making a sound. Without warning, light flooded into the small tavern, messing with Jazz's optics and visor for a second.

Everyone worked like a well oiled machine. Jazz knew to get up and heave Prowl up the few astro-yards to the others without being told. Ratchet and Optimus hauled him up as Bluestreak, Smokescreen and Stormjet rolled one last boulder out of the way.

Time froze. Movements were made, but they were not the ones controlling themselves. Prowl was stretched out on the ground, the silver emergency blanket covering up his entire frame, helm to pede. Ratchet quickly took it off, and grimaced.

Smokescreen froze in spot, his doorwings were the only thing that moved as they trembled. Bluestreak gagged and purged, coolant leaking from his optics in shock and fear.

Prowl was stripped of all armour, and his valve was exposed. His doorwings, if they could be called that, were beyond shredded. He had large gouges and stab wounds and melt marks in every single part of his body. So much energon pooled together, Ratchet was unable to tell from where exactly it was all coming from.

"Stormjet." Ratchet barked.

"Got it." the navy blue mech replied as he transformed.

A stretcher was brought out from a special compartment in Stormjet, and Optimus, Jazz, and Ratchet carefully rolled Prowl onto it. Smokescreen had his hands full trying to calm down a hysterical Bluestreak.

"Smoke, it's carrier and sire all over again! I can barely feel him, and it's getting farther away. I can feel him slipping! He's-"

Bluestreak was stopped abruptly as his cheek was slapped and his shoulders grabbed and shaken.

"Bluestreak! Get a hold of yourself." Smokescreen snapped. "Freaking out isn't going to help him. We have to go, now, and maybe there's a chance that he can be helped then."

"Maybe?" Bluestreak murmured to himself as Smokescreen led him to the helicopter.

"Hurry up!" Ratchet shouted above the whirr of blades.

Smokescreen and Bluestreak hopped into the open sides just as Stormjet began to lift off. They settled in, sitting on the ground as Ratchet knelt over Prowl's abused form.

"Jazz, you'll have to help me." Ratchet stated hurriedly.

"Meh?" Jazz asked.

"Yes, now." Ratchet snapped.

Ratchet began to bark orders faster then Jazz could process them. Temporary patches were handed, and wires were held in place for a temporary fix. He had to keep Prowl calm and still, and try and find more wounds on him for temporary fixing.

No one noticed how dark it was getting, and how black everyone appeared in the moons' light. Prowl was only half conscious, and murmured gibberish from time to time.

"That should hold, for now." Ratchet stated. "He needs an I.V., stat."

"Ah'm not very good at tha' kinda stuff." Jazz admitted.

As head of Special Ops., he knew basic medicine and battlefield medicine. Just because he _knew_ it,though, didn't mean he _liked_ it.

"I'll do it." Ratchet snapped. "Just keep him still."

Jazz nodded. He could do that. Prowl was half on his lap now anyways. It kept his 'wings' off of the floor a bit. Ratchet carefully hung a bag of energon from a hook in the ceiling, just for this purpose, and went towards Prowl's bare form with the needle.

The moment the needle pricked his protoform, Prowl flipped. His half-open optics saw looming black figures about him, and felt the pain they inflicted on him. He felt they way they grabbed his dripping wires and melted his protoform. Now they were stabbing him!

Prowl screamed and thrashed about.

"Hold him down!" Ratchet shouted. "He'll undo all the patches!"

Optimus quickly grabbed and pinned the thrashing arms as Smokescreen and Bluestreak grabbed his pedes. Prowl continued to struggle and cry out, but his cries were as weak as his attempts to escape their strong grip.

Ratchet jabbed him with the needle, but Prowl's weak struggling was just enough to dislodge it. He tried again, only to have it slide back out.

"Frag it." he growled. "Keep holding him down. I'm giving him an I.O."

"An I.O.?" Jazz exclaimed. "Are ya' sure, Ratch?"

"Why died and made you medic?" Ratchet snapped. "He needs the fluids. Now."

Jazz flinched. An I.O was terribly painful. A huge needle shoved deep into the structure of the protoform. It was lodged into the metal structure, and held firm. Only a good, hard yank or a medic could remove them.

Ratchet took a vent before placing the tip of the needle on Prowl's protoform. He could see Prowl's servo trembling, just from the gentle brush of the tip. With a skillful thrust, the needle went deep into Prowl's frame and into the protoform structure.

Prowl cried out and tried to thrash, but was well restricted. They held firm until his screams and twists were nothing more but soft keens and trembles. All but Jazz were pushed aside by Ratchet so that the medic could continue his half-aft patch job.

"Shh." Jazz said gently, stroking Prowl's cheek. "It's all right."

"We are nearing base, sir." Stormjet called into his hold. "ETA, ten breems."

"Acknowledged." Optimus returned.

Ten breems may have been a short time, but it seemed to drag for the mechs in the helicopter. The base was seen soon, and they couldn't land fast enough. First Aid, Perceptor, and Wheeljack were waiting at the landing dock and rushed Prowl off towards the med-bay with Ratchet.

Bluestreak and Smokescreem were the last to get out of Stormjet. It was clear that they were both distraught and depressed. Optimus was only able to offer his condolences before being called away. Jazz was left with them. He shifted for a moment before laying a hand on Bluestreak's shoulder.

"Ya' both look tired. Why don't ya' try and get some fuel and rest?" he suggested.

Smokescreen shook his helm. He wanted to try and speak, but his glossa felt dry, even though it wasn't, and his throat felt tight.

"What if something happens to Prowl?" Bluestreak asked, speaking for the both of them.

"Ah promise ta get both of ya' if anythin' happens." Jazz replied.

"Both better and worse." Smokescreen choked out.

Jazz nodded in agreement. He sent the two Praxians up to the Rec. room before heading to the med-bay himself. Of course, as soon as he entered, the place was in total disarray. The medics were running about, machines were blaring and beeping in not-so-nice ways, and there was energon blood dripping onto the floor in great pools.

"We need more energon." Ratchet's sharp voice shouted. "And tubing, stat."

"Here." Wheeljack announced, handing the long, clear tube to Ratchet.

Perceptor carefully tilted Prowl's helm up and opened his mouth so that Ratchet could slide it down Prowl's throat. He choked a bit, but remained unconscious. First Aid was rushing up to Prowl's berth, but stopped as he caught sight of Jazz.

"You can't be in here." the mech stated.

"But-"

"Are you injured or ill?" First Aid asked quickly.

"No, but-"

"Then out!" First Aid shouted as he hurried over to Ratchet.

"Ol' Hatchet's rubbin' of on ya'." Jazz muttered as he sullenly left the med-bay into a small waiting area.

He wasn't very surprised to see Smokescreen and Bluestreak there. They had fueled, but both had been unable to so much as think about recharging. Jazz sat down in a seat next to them, but remained silent. There was absolutely nothing to do now. Nothing to do but wait, and pray that Primus would be merciful.

OoOoOoOoO

"Spark rate." Ratchet ordered.

"Elevated, but becoming normal." Wheeljack read the monitor.

"Respiration." Ratchet dictated next.

"Slow." Perceptor replied. "But the tube is helping keep it at an acceptable pace."

"Energon pressure and levels." Ratchet stated.

"Both are too low." First Aid replied.

"That is to be expected." Ratchet returned as he checked a processor activity monitor. "A bit slow, but nothing serious. It's simply trying to reboot."

Ratchet looked over his crew. It had been nearly two orns. Two, exhausting orns of nonstop work. Prowl's doorwings had been completely removed to be rebuilt, and almost every part of his frame had needed welding and patching. New armour was being made, and a new chevron as Prowl's had been physically torn off.

"Get some rest." Ratchet said. "You've earned it."

They others didn't argue, knowing that Ratchet would refuel and rest as soon as he had told Jazz and Prowl's siblings about his condition. As he left the med-bay, he was rather surprised to see all three awake. It looked like they hadn't recharged at all.

"How is he?" Bluestreak asked as soon as the med-bay doors had moved as he lept to his pedes.

Smokescreen and Jazz rose as well.

"He's stabilized." Ratchet answered. "He's still in stasis, though, and has a small infection where his doorwings used to be."

"Used to be?" Bluestreak parroted.

"They had to be removed. They will be replaced, when he's strong enough for surgery." Ratchet answered quickly.

A doorwing to a Praxian was like a tail feather to a peacock. Much like a seeker, they were immensely proud of their extra extremity and took great care of them. A Praxian without his doorwings just wasn't Praxian. It was their special mark that separated them from everyone else.

"Can we see him?" Smokescreen asked.

"Quickly." Ratchet stated. "I want to get some charge."

They were ushered into the med-bay. Bluestreak froze by the door next to Smokescreen. Ratchet gave them a moment to take it all in before giving them each a small push.

Prowl was on his stomach, his wingless back to the ceiling. Small, divet-like nubs were in each place where the door-joint connected to the frame. An I.V. was in his arm, dripping at a steady pace the blue lifeblood. His helm was on his side, and the breathing tubes were kept as straight as possible. He wasn't supposed to be on his stomach plating with the tubing, but his servos were too damaged for him to be on his side and his back was out of the question.

"Can-can you cover him up?" Bluestreak asked, not wanting to look at the scarred frame and wingless back.

Ratchet shook his helm. "He's overheating."

Smokescreen went over to Prowl's side and slowly, very slowly, placed a hand over Prowl's loose fist. Bluestreak was too afraid to touch him, but sent comforting pulses over his bond.

"Hey, doc." Jazz stated from behind the two brothers. "Why don' we keep an optic on 'im? We could take shifts."

"Can we?" Bluestreak asked in a bit of a choked voice.

Ratchet vented a bit. He contemplated the suggestion.

"I guess so. Don't mess with anything, though." Ratchet ordered. "And if he wakes up, get me instantly. Don't get your hopes up, though, about him waking up any time soon."

The three nodded in agreement. Jazz left with Ratchet, giving Bluestreak and Smokescreen some time alone with Prowl.

OoOoOoOoO

Smokescreen vented heavily as he looked over Prowl's 'fixed' frame. Those nubs on his back looked the worst. They were black and green and oozing and pussing in ways it shouldn't be. They couldn't be bandaged due to their awkward position, so they had to be cleaned regularly and frequently.

Bluesteak gently brushed his digits against Prowl's cheek. He was very careful to not disturb the ventilation tubing in his mouth and throat. With his other hand, he seeked out Smokescreen's own.

The two had been trying to reassure each other and comfort one another through the bond. It felt odd now, once again having three bonds altogether. It felt so right though, even if one generated mainly pain, confusion, and fear.

Smokescreen settled into a chair, tucking his wings a bit to keep them from getting cramped. Bluestreak dragged a backless, round stool over and sat atop of it.

"He'll be all right." Bluestreak said, if only to say something.

"Mm-hmm." Smokescreen hummed tiredly.

Bluestreak was tired as well. They were both drained physically and emotionally from the past few orns. Nearly 7 orns had passed. Prowl was missing for five of them, and the other two were in waiting as he went through numerous treatments.

Bluestreak lay his helm down on the berth, his frame sagging awkwardly over a small gap above the floor was he gently pressed it into Prowl's side. He shuttered his optics, sending warm pulse after pulse of comfort and love to Prowl.

Smokescreen slumped a bit in his chair and crossed his servos across his chassis. His optics felt like lead wights, and shuttered slower and slower every klik. Soon, they didn't open back up and his helm lulled forward.

All three sat together in recharge, even though one was in stasis, just as they had so long ago. Before the war in their shared berthroom, and even after they had joined the Autobots in their shared bunks. Just the way it was supposed to be.

* * *

Author's Notes- Togeth again! Can't you see they're together again? Yep,back together. Wha's going to happen to them? Only I know!  
Shout out to Nine Crow! You're idea will be in here soon! (I am only usuing her idea as she sent it to me at chapter 3. Suggestions are appreciated but not really used as I am many chapters ahead)


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

Jazz leaned up against his chair a bit. He was off duty yet on another shift. A personal, volunteer shift. Bluestreak and Smokescreen were doing their dutys as he watched Prowl. The mech lay motionless, just the way he had been for the past four orns.

Laying there, the breathing tube making steady gushing noises in and out as he ventilated. The spark monitor beeped steadily, and the I.V drip made a very small noise if one strained their audios.

Prowl would twitch from time to time, as his processor tried to boot up and straighten everything up. Sometimes his hand would open and close, or his pede would twitch. Once his entire frame spasmed in a near seizure, but nothing was worse then when his nubs would move.

They moved the most, as his processor had not yet figured out why it was unable to send or get messages and motion from the missing appendages. The nubs would jerk back and forth, or twitch as if irritated, or rise and fall a bit. It was a bit disturbing and sobering at the same time.

Jazz sat up as Prowl made a noise other then the beeping or the gushing or the silent dripping. He _moaned_. Soft, be it, but he still made a manual noise. He shifted a bit, and tried to push himself up.

"Whoa, easy there, mech." Jazz said softly as Prowl's optics unshuttered and looked right at him.

Prowl slumped a bit, but his optics never left Jazz.

Prowl had never been very religious. He believed in Primus and Unicron and the Original 13 Primes, the evidence leaning _towards_ them was far too compelling not to. Any doubt, though, that he had ever had about their existence was wiped away as his optics landed on the blurry white figure.

The voice itself was soft and gentle. The light touch on his hand made Prowl's spark flutter a bit, showing on the spark monitor. It had to be a seraphim, or a cherubim, or some kind of virtue or power. It just _had _to be.

Jazz flinched as he pressed a hand to Prowl's hot helm in an attempt to get him to lay back down.

"Yer burnin' up, Prolwer." Jazz stated in a low voice. "Go backta sleep."

Prowl lay his helm back down, but continued to stare at Jazz. It wasn't unsettling in any way, but rather spark pulling. Jazz rubbed his hand a bit as the Datsun's optics slowly shuttered, and he fell into recharge. An actual recharge, and not unconsciousness nor a stasis.

Jazz hurridly called Ratchet over. Prowl had woken up! Bluestreak and Smokescreen were going to be overjoyed.

OoOoOoOoO

"Did you get the comm. too, Smokey? Did you?" Bluestreak asked quickly, and continued before Smokescreen could reply. "Prowl's awake! He's up! He's-"

"I know!" Smokescreen exclaimed. "I got the message. Twice now."

Bluestreak grinned widely.

"Um, Blue?" Smokescreen asked, annoyed.

"Yes?"

"Get off me!"

Bluestreak hurriedly hopped up and helped Smokescreen up off the floor. In his excitement he had tripped and fallen on Smokescreen. They went into the med-bay, and went into one of the back rooms that was used for critical patients.

Jazz was still there, and Prowl looked the same as he had the last few orns. On his stomach plating, optics shuttered, and unmoving.

"I thought he was awake." Bluestreak said, his doorwings sagging in disappointment.

Jazz smiled as he clasped the gray mech's shoulder. "He was. He went back ta' recharge, though."

"He'll wake up again." Smokescreen reassured his younger brother.

Prowl shifted a bit, as if to confirm the point.

"Ah'll be goin' now." Jazz said, sensing that the Praxians should be with their brother when he woke up again.

"You can stay, you know." Smokescreen offered.

"Ah got a shift ah can't be late for." Jazz said.

That was only partially true. His shift didn't start for another joor. Of course, neither doorwinged mech needed to know that, and Jazz slipped out the door.

Smokescreen and Bluestreak went next to Prowl's berth as the mech shifted again, and sighed.

"P-Prowl?" Bluestreak asked, unsure.

Prowl slowly unshuttered his optics, and blinked lazily in confusion. He tried to speak, but only choked and gagged a bit as the tube jarred in his throat.

-Use the bond- Smokescreen said.

Prowl started a bit as he didn't hear the voice with his audios, but with his spark. He felt the voice. He hadn't felt that in so long. Sometimes it drove him crazy, the longing in his spark for his siblings' feel again. Even with the soothing, right, feeling of the bond, Prowl couldn't help but fear that this was all just an illusion. His spark rate started to go up as he tried out the bond.

-How did I- What hap- I mean-

"Calm down." Smokescreen said aloud. "Or else Ratchet'll come in here and knock you back out."

Prowl took a deep vent with the tube. -How did you find me?-

"We followed the bond." Bluestreak answered. "First we were following your trail. It started to lead us to this big cave, but the bond led us to the little cave you were in."

Prowl didn't reply, and Bluestreak saw it as a 'go ahead' to keep talking.

"How did you escape, anyways? I mean, with your injurys it's amazing that you're still here, but escaping? That's gotta be a miracle or something." Bluestreak rambled.

Prowl's spark rate started to go up again as that first dark cave entered his processor. The black mech who played with him.

"Shut up." Smokescreen scolded his younger brother.

-I didn't escape- Prowl said slowly.

"Of course you did." Bluestreak stated. "How else did you-"

"Let it be." Smokescreen said sharply. "He'll tell us when he's ready."

Prowl shuttered his optics, trying to shut everything out. The far past, the near past, and the present.

_'See? Having the bond open isn't so bad.'_

_Isn't so bad? I nearly offlined and Bluestreak and Smokescreen would have felt that._

_'They would have rather felt you offline if only to feel you.'_

_Why would they want that? it would only pain them._

_'At least they would have felt it. Felt you'_

Prowl vented a bit, his optics still shuttered. He felt his siblings holding his hand and moving about a bit.

-I'm sorry-

"For what?" Smokescreen asked.

"You didn't do anything wrong." Bluestreak added.

-I did- Prowl said, his bond even slow as he struggled with the words. -I shouldn't have done it-

"Done what?" Smokescreen pressed.

Prowl opened his optics.

-I should have never blocked the bond. All it's done is cause strife a-and hurt to the both of y-you-

"It's open now." Smokescreen stated. "Get some rest."

-I never wanted that f-for either of you- Prowl continued, the words becoming fuzzy and blurred and staticy.-The whole point of shutting it off was to keep that from you-

Smokescreen sent a pulse to Prowl. One of forgiveness and apologetic. Prowl returned it, weak though. His optics were so heavy, and he was so tired. He felt something get into the berth, but paid it no mind as he shuttered his optics and slipped into a peaceful recharge.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl shifted a bit as his warmth left him. He wanted to whimper, but that would mean having to wake up. He wanted and needed the recharge more then the warmth, so he merely sighed in his half-sleep and returned to a complete state of restful bliss.

He was rudely jarred awake by a sharp pain in his back. He jerked up with a hiss.

"Easy there." a gruff voice snapped in a rather gentle tone. "I'm just cleaning your wounds."

Prowl switched on his private comm. link, turning it to Ratchet's frequency.

: Would it be possible to remove the venting tube as well ?: Prowl asked hopefully.

Ratchet raised an optic ridge. After a moments of hesitation, Ratchet set aside his ball of cotton and antiseptic.

"Turn onto your side, but don't go on your back." Ratchet ordered.

Prowl did so, slowly, but managed to roll over.

"This'll be uncomfortable." Ratchet warned as he started to remove a few pieces of surgical tape.

The tape had been holding the tube in place. The sticky paper was balled up and tossed onto a tray. Ratchet took a careful grip on the tube after moving Prowl's helm a bit straighter.

"Hold still." Ratchet warned.

He began to pull out the tube. It wasn't the worst thing Prowl had ever experienced, but he hoped he never had to do it again. The rough, slippery feeling of the tube through his rather dry throat was acutely uncomfortable. It rubbed against the sides of his throat, making him gag a bit.

Thankfully, Prowl didn't have to suffer long. Ratchet had pulled it out in two quick goes, and lay the tube beside the balled up tape.

"Th-"Prowl tried to thank the medic, but ended up emitting a string of static.

"Don't use it just yet." Ratchet warned. "Rest it for now."

: Thank you : Prowl replied.

Ratchet grunted. "Lay on your stomach plating again. I didn't finish cleaning your door- back."

Prowl groggily slid back onto his stomach plating. He was unaware of a second black and white frame entering the room. A wingless, visored mech had entered the room and slid into the chair next to Prowl's berth.

Prowl was finally aware of Jazz as the hand slid over his own. His optics had been tightly shuttered as Ratchet cleaned his back wounds. It hurt something fierce, much worse then any other wound he had. That was rather odd, though, as nothing seemed different. Maybe it was just because of how sensitive his doorwings were.

"How ya' feelin?" Jazz asked as he noticed he had Prowl's attention.

"B-better." Prowl barely rasped out.

"Eh!" Ratchet scolded. "No vocalizer."

Prowl inwardly scowled as he switched to a private comm.

: Better :

"That's good." Jazz replied with a grin.

Prowl hissed a bit and turned his helm to glare at Ratchet. He stopped though, his optics and mouth widely agape in shock.

"Wh-where-"

"Easy, calm down." Ratchet said quickly as quickly placed the metal tong and cotton ball down.

Prowl's spark rate continued to climb as he struggled to push himself up. His servos gave out, though, but that didn't stop him. He reached back to feel the paneling that was no longer there.

"M-my wings."

"You'll get them back." Ratchet promised.

"Doc hadta remove 'em." Jazz added. "We're gettin' ya' some new ones."

Prowl took a shaky vent in. His doorwings, his symbol of Praxian Pride, gone. He shook his helm, though.

"No?" both mechs asked in confusion.

"Th-" Prowl grumbled as his vocalizer shorted out with a fizz. He switched over to his comm. before Ratchet could reprimand him.

: They are not priority : Prowl admitted. : My doorwings are not necissary, and are more of a liability then they are worth :

"Not as much as you think." Ratchet contradicted. "Without your wings, your processor will be completely out of sorts. You'll overheat any time you crash, and you'll crash more from it trying to figure out what happened to your doorwings."

"Looks like ya' need 'em, Prowler." Jazz stated. "They're bein' made in Epsilon and bein' shipped ta' Crystal City."

: That's on the other side of Cybertron : Prowl said.

"They won't be done for awhile. Doorwings are tricky." Ratchet explained. "You'll probably be back to work before they're finished."

"Somethin' will be worked out then." Jazz confirmed. "For now, ya' need to focus on restin' and gettin' better."

Prowl vented. He was exhausted, and now his back was stinging and felt light. Too light. He settled back down, and let Ratchet finish his tortu-cleaning. Jazz distracted him by talking with him for a bit, but protocals began to take over and Prowl was unable to keep his optics open. He once again slipped into recharge, oblivious to the outside world yet again.

OoOoOoOoO

"Just take it easy." Ratchet warned as Prowl slid his pedes off of the berth.

"Really, Ratchet." Prowl returned. "I am quite capable of getting up."

"Oh, really?" Ratchet asked as Prowl stumbled a bit into Jazz.

Jazz chuckled, rather liking the Datsun holding onto him for support. The SIC taction was rather unsteady on his pedes, from both injury and lack of use for almost a groon and a half. Jazz held onto him as Prowl straightened up a bit. He teetered foward though.

"Maybe ya' shouldn' be tryin' this yet." Jazz suggested as Prowl took his face out of Jazz's chassis.

"I'm simply off balance." Prowl stated.

He let go of Jazz rather hurriedly, trying to keep standing. He grumbled as he held onto the counter.

"It's like learning to walk all over again." he stated.

"You learned to walk differently from othe bots." Ratchet stated. "Your doorwings, like any Praxian, made your center of balance different. Now without them, it's shifted."

Prowl only scowled as he tried once again to stand straight up without having to fall into somebody. He found if he leaned back, it helped him remain rather upright. Ratchet grunted a bit as he looked Prowl over.

"I'll release you, but you're not working for at least another orn." Ratchet said firmly. "Just get used to walking and standing first."

"Agreed." Prowl answered, not wanting to have to stumble up the halls or use the wall to get to and from his office.

"You can go now." Ratchet stated.

"Let's go, Prowler." Jazz said as he offered a servo to Prowl.

Prowl declined it until he took a step and stumbled forward. He grabbed at Jazz's servo to keep his faceplates off the floor. Jazz smirked as he helped Prowl leave the med-bay, at a painfully slow pace.

"Where to?" Jazz asked.

"My room." Prowl returned. "I don't want to be seen like this."

Jazz merely nodded as they went to Prowl's berthroom. Luckily for the SIC, it was mid-day and most bots were hard at work, or in recharge as they had the graveyard shift. Jazz led Prowl up to his door, and started to key in the code.

"Hold on." Prowl said, about to give Jazz the open code.

Before he could, though, it slid open. Prowl rolled his optics a bit at the fact that Jazz had overridden his door in mere kliks.

"I don't know if I should be upset about that or not." Prowl stated as he let Jazz help him into the room.

Jazz shrugged. "Ah can override almost any door on base."

"What ones can't you override?" Prowl asked, just out of curiosity.

"The ones Ah can't." Jazz answered with a smirk.

Prowl sighed and shook his helm. He would have scolded Jazz if he had had the strength to. He was tired, though, and only wanted to recharge. Jazz was pretty observant, and left after he saw Prowl comfortably situated in his berth.

"Ah'll be by later." Jazz promised as he left the room.

The door automatically locked behind him. Prowl ordered the lights to dim, and shuttered his optics. It felt good, being in his own berth. That medical berth wasn't that bad, but it wasn't his berth. The berth in the med-room might have been Prime sized and fit for royalty for all Prowl cared, but nothing beat the smell and feel of your own bed.

In mere kliks, Prowl fell into recharge.

_Scream for me. _A black mech whispered.

_You want it. _A black mech stated.

_Scream for me. _A black mech repeated.

_A carrier, I'll make good use of that. _The black meck promised.

_Scream for me._

_'No!' _A torn and trembling figure pleaded in a whisper.

_Scream._

_'Please. No.' _A torn figure pleaded in a whimper.

_Scream, Prowl._

_"No. No, no!'_ Prowl cried out.

_Prowl. _Whiplash cupped the white cheek, clawed digits scratching his protoform.

_'No!'_

_Prowl! _The black mech shouted in a different voice, shaking Prowl hard.

_'No.'_

_Prowl, wake up!_

Prowl lurched forward in his berth, drenched in condensation and gasping. He heard someone take a step back to avoid getting hit by him as he jumped forward. He didn't care, though, and simply remained doubled over on the berth, helm in hands, as he gasped. His spark was racing, as was his processor.

"Are ya' all right?" Jazz asked. "You were havin' a dream cycle. Pretty bad one, by the looks of it."

Prowl merely cycled air out of his vents. He sat up, and tried to look normal.

"Wanna talk-"

"No." Prowl replied curtly.

"Ya' sure?" Jazz asked, sitting on the edge of the berth. "Might help ya'."

"Positive." Prowl stated.

Jazz went to rest a hand on Prowl's pede in reassurance, but snapped back as soon as he touched him.

"Primus, mech!" Jazz exclaimed. "Yer hot."

Prowl flinched a bit. Of course, he just had to heat up, didn't he? His body was turned on while his mind was not. in conclusion, Prowl had turned himself on with the dream cycle.

It made him sick. He wanted to purge, and probably would have if he had had something in him. Being in the med-bay for a groon with nothing but an I.V. had left him pretty empty, though. He stifled a gag, as his reflexes didn't know about his empty tank.

Prowl dared himself to look into Jazz's face. Even with his visor on, Prowl could tell that Jazz was determined. Determined to find out what happened.

"Prowl, did 'e try anythin' on ya'?" Jazz asked in a gentle voice that again made Prowl sick. He did not need this mech's pity.

Prowl remained stubbornly silent.

"Prowl, did he do anythin' to ya'?" Jazz reworded his question.

"Of course he did. Why do you think I have been in the infirmary, and am missing my doorwings?" Prowl asked.

"You know good and well what Ah' mean." Jazz said, now firm. "Did tha' mech, whoever 'e is, do anythin' to ya'?"

"His designation is Whiplash." Prowl answered, tap dancing his way away from the original question.

"Good ta' know." Jazz stated. "Now answer the question."

Prowl's spark clenched. Even if Whiplash hadn't completely gone through with...it, why did he feel so dirty? Used, even.

"Please, Prowler?" Jazz pleaded.

Again, silence.

Jazz shrugged. "All righty, then."

"That's it?" Prowl asked, relieved. "You are finished interrogating me?"

"Guess so." Jazz stated. "Course, I'm gonna hear all 'bout it in yer report."

"My report?" Prowl asked, spark now sinking as realization set in.

"Of course! A reports gotta be filed 'bout wha' happened. Who better ta' fill it out then the mech it happened to?" Jazz asked nonchalantly. "Of course, if somebot else was told, then maybe said mech wouldn't havta fill out the report himself and somebot else could do it."

"Like you?" Prowl asked in a semi-teasing way.

"Ah was thinkin' more of Blue of Smokey." Jazz stated.

"You wouldn't dare." Prowl almost growled. "They do not need this burden on them."

"Then why don' ya' jus' tell meh?" Jazz asked, again laying a hand on Prowl's now cool pede. "Did Whiplash try anythin' on ya'?"

"No." Prowl said quickly.

"Yer lyin'." Jazz stated.

"He didn't, I swear." Prowl said hurriedly. "He- he was going to but became distracted."

"Goin' ta interface with ya'?" Jazz asked, his hands curling into fists.

Prowl fidgeted a tiny bit, almost unnoticeable. "Not...not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Jazz repeated. "Wh' else was 'e goin' ta' do? Merge with ya'? Tha-" Jazz stopped, his frame tensing in anger as he practically leapt from the berth. "'E _merged_ with ya'?"

"Almost." Prowl said, trying to calm the Special ops. mech down.

"How close is almost, Prowl?" Jazz asked. "Connected? Begin' ta merge?"

Prowl lowered his helm. He took a rather jerked intake in.

No. No, no! Not here, not now. He was _not_ going to cry. He hadn't cried...since the night he had found his creators offlined. He was not going to do it now.

Damn the coolant on his cheeks! Be it little, but damn it anyways! Damn it to the Pit! Curse those shaky, hitched intakes the he took. A thousand black years apon his staticy voicebox! Bless that visored mech that wrapped his serovs around the now wingless back and held him as all barriers fell and broke loose.

"Ease there." Jazz said softly as he held the shaking, sobbing mech.

Prowl struggled to regain control, but only managed to get another bout of static from his vocaizer and an extra tremor from his frame as he held onto Jazz. The coolant didn't drip or trickle now, but gushed and pooled from his optics.

After a few breems, he had calmed down enough to speak legibly...a bit, anyways.

"He-he was so close." Prowl gasped. "I-I thought, I _knew_ that he-"

"It's all right, yer safe now." Jazz soothed.

"I'm not." Prowl replied. "Neither are you, nor Blues-streak or Smokescreen."

"What?" Jazz asked.

"I didn't escape." Prowl choked out. "He-he let me go."

"Let you go?" Jazz parroted.

"He wanted to-no. He _is_ hunting me." Prowl said. " He is no Decepticon. He's worse. Much, much worse."

"Wait, he's not a 'Con?" Jazz asked, pushing Prowl up a bit to look at his face. "What is he, then?"

Prowl shook his helm, trying to regain control of his hitching intakes. "I don't know. He works for another, Jazz."

Prowl was trembling again, despite his best and valiant attempts to remain strong. Jazz pulled him into an embrace again.

"There's something or...or _someone_ else out there, Jazz." Prowl said in a near whisper. "A third party, a third side. They are trying to build up. They are stronger then both sides."

"Yer jus' jumpin' ta conclusions, Prowler." Jazz stated. "Spooked, even."

Prowl slowly shook his helm. Jazz was stoking his helm a bit, trying to calm him down. His emotional outburst had been exhausting, even if he had been in recharge for the past few joors. His optics were so heavy again, but he continued to babble about greater parties and dangerous bots.

"They're out there, Jazz, building up." Prowl mumbled, half asleep. "Waiting for the proper moment to strike."

"If their buildin' up, we'll squish them back down like an organic." Jazz reassured him as the blue optics shuttered.

Prowl shook his helm slowly, but only managed to turn it one way before slumping into recharge. Jazz vented in relief and continued to hold the SIC tactician. He had never seen Prowl like this. Unable to control himself, helpless almost, _scared_ even. It was unnerving. Very unnerving.

* * *

Author's Notes- Prowl's back, but not to normal. Normality is going to take awhile coming back...

Nobody's guessed what Whiplash is yet! It'll all be explained soon, I swear! I', working on the next chapter (s) as you read this! See, I'm still writing *types*

Please review! Your reviews give me the boost I need to keep writing!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

Prowl slowly onlined. Before his optics even opened, a pound in his processor reminded him of his outburst last night. He kept his optics shuttered on purpose.

_You fool_ He reprimanded himself. _What does Jazz think of you now?_

_'He doesn't think any different of you.'_ that annoying little voice in his helm returned.

_You again? Why is it- No! Go away._

The voice chuckled, laughed at him even. _'You can't send me away.'_

Prowl mentally sighed as the voice continued.

_'Your mechfriend does not think any different of you. He merely sees you 'spooked', as he put it.'_

_I am not spooked. Wai-mechfriend?_

_'Of course.'_

_Jazz is not my lover!_

_'But you want him to be.'_

_I want no such thing! The very thought is-_

_'Plausible'_

_I was going to say 'ridiculous'. Speaking of ridiculous, this conversation is, and I say it is over._

_'This conversation is ridiculous? How about the fact that you are arguing with yourself?'_

_Mute it_

_'You want ridiculous? How about the fact that you are arguing with yourself and _losing_?'_

_Mute it._

_'How can I silence myself if I have no physical mouth?'_

Prowl twitched. That was so very illogical. It was talking, yet had no mouth. He was talking with himself, and losing! He had to stop that voice, now, before he crashed. Ratchet had warned him about crashing, and how often it probably was going to happen now that processor was out of wack.

He snapped his optics open, forcing himself awake. He must be as crazy as Red Alert. He shook his helm a bit, ridding himself of the feeling of a coming crash as he sat up. The first thing he noticed that Jazz was gone, and he was alone again. In Jazz's place, though, was a data-pad. Prowl took it up and onlined it.

'Had an early shift. Your brothers should be by later. They had the graveyard shift yesterday. Be by later. Take it easy today, and you don't have to go into work yet.

-Jazz'

Prowl read over it quickly. He had almost forgotten about work. Ratchet had told him not to do it yesterday, but why not today? He felt perfectly fine. Light in the back and a little sore, but manageable. Of course, he would be unsteady on his pedes, but he would be at a desk! If worse came to worse and he absolutely could not walk for some odd reason, he could simply call a mech to deliver the data-pads for him.

With his mind set, Prowl swung his pedes over the side of the berth to set himself on the floor. He nearly _fell_ on the floor, still unsteady from his doorwings. Er, lack of. He held onto the headboard of the berth for a few kliks as he steadied himself.

"This is humiliating." Prowl muttered dryly.

_'Isn't it, though?'_

Prowl growled. He was absolutely not going to start talking, listening, or arguing with that little voice again. He hurriedly let go of the board and stumbled his way to the other side if the room. In a drawer, he had an extra cube of high energy energon. Save himself a humiliating trip to the Rec. room.

The cube was quickly downed, as he was hungry. His tank was still rather empty, and a second was drunken for good measure. He was now fueled, and ready to leave his berthroom for his office. Well, _he_ was ready, his body was not.

Prowl walked the full length of his berthroom, nearly face planting once. He keyed the door open, and stepped through it quickly. It closed and sealed with a hiss. No going back now.

With one hand on the wall for support, he began to go up the halls as if nothing had happened. He ignored the optics that settled on him rather well, until one voice called out to him.

"Hey, Prowl? Is that you?"

Prowl vented as he turned to greet Dumb-aft, A.K.A, Sideswipe.

"Hello, Sideswipe." Prowl said as dryly as he could.

"You're looking different." Sideswipe mentioned in mock confusion. "Did you do something different? New armour, maybe? No, wait, don't tell me. You're using a new polish, right?"

"No, Sideswipe." Prowl replied. "I have not altered my appearance. Ratchet medically removed my doorwings."

Sideswipe snapped his digits. "I knew there was something off about you."

Prowl inwardly sighed. "Sideswipe, I must get to my office." _Before I topple over._ "And I know that you have a shift to cover."

Sideswipe slumped. So much for putting of monitor duty. Prowl's lips components twitched a bit as he hid a smirk.

"Good day, Sideswipe." Prowl said before continuing his slow trek to his office.

Sideswipe departed as well, his processor wheeling and working overtime as every evil gray cell in him worked out a plan. Prowl's loss could be his gain. His gain could land him in the brig with exaggeratedly long monitor duty, but it would be worth it.

All he needed was an idea. No, strike that. He had an idea. He just needed materials. All he had to do was pay a visit to Hound. He had visited an organic planet before, right? Of course he had! Where else had he gotten all those organic trinkets?

OoOoOoO

"And why do you want these, again?" Hound asked as he hesitantly held a box filled with very large feathers.

"Um...I told you all ready, didn't I?" Sideswipe asked hopefully.

"No, you didn't." Hound stated.

"Um, Sunny needs them." Sideswipe said quickly.

"Sunstreaker?" Hound repeated. "What does he need them for? Art?"

Sideswipe shrugged. "You know Sunny."

Hound smirked. "He can have them, on one condition."

"What's that?" Sideswipe asked, worried.

"That he shows me the finished product." Hound smiled cheerfully.

"Oh, you'll see them around." Sideswipe promised.

The box was handed over, and Sideswipe raced back to his shared quarters and slid the door shut and sealed it off. The box was dumped onto the floor, and Sideswipe observed the feathers Hound had given him.

They were much unlike anything he had ever seen before. They were so soft and billowy. They were in shades of soft pink and pure white, and were as long as his servo. Pretty weird stuff, if you asked him. This was going to be perfect.

Now, where did Sunstreaker keep the thin wire and adhesive paste?

OoOoOoOoO

"Jazz, I only need five more breems." Prowl argued, never looking up from his data-pad.

"Yep, five breems too many." Jazz returned as he snatched the stylus from Prowl's hand.

"Give that back." Prowl demanded as he spun around in his chair to face the grinning, visored mech.

"Nuh-uh." Jazz said, holding the stylus just out of Prowl's seated reach.

Prowl growled a bit. Jazz knew good and well that he couldn't stand. Wouldn't Jazz feel terrible if Prowl stood up and tried to get the stylus, and fell over instead? Well yes, yes he would. Prowl rose unsteadily to his pedes, grabbing for the stylus.

Good old Jazz. He knew just what to do. He put a hand on Prowl's chassis to hold him up and held his other hand and the stylus away farther.

"That is not fair." Prowl stated in an angry tone.

"Life ain't fair." Jazz sighed as he subspaced the stylus.

Prowl sat back down, opened a drawer, and took out a second stylus. Jazz hit his forehelm.

"Honestly?"

"Yes." Prowl returned as he returned to writing. "This pad is due to Optimus today, and will only take four breems to finish."

"Ya' said five before." Jazz stated.

"I have been writing as we have been speaking." Prowl answered as he continued to fill out his report.

Jazz scowled. "Fine. Finish yer report."

"Thank you." Prowl retorted as he continued to scrawl glyphs in his near immaculate penmanship.

Jazz watched over his shoulder the entire time, peering deeply at the pad as Prowl wrote. It was quite unnerving and irritating, as Prowl's attention kept going from his work to the warm semi-moist vents on his neck cable.

Prowl leaned forward and out of Jazz's breath and focused harder. To his utmost annoyance, Jazz leaned a bit more too. If to make matters worse, Jazz began to _hum_. He couldn't even hum something like a classical tune or some kind of music that one wanted to listen to. No, Jazz had to hum some bouncy, annoying jingle that got stuck in one processor with just one note.

"Jazz!" Prowl exclaimed after a complete breem of the fifteen klik song.

"All done?" Jazz asked, snatching the stylus once again and adding with the other in his subspace.

"Yes, if only to mute you." Prowl sighed as he rose from his seat.

"But you didn' finish your report." Jazz teased.

How illogical was that? Jazz was purposefully hindering him from finishing his reports, now he was saying that Prowl hadn't. Of course he hadn't! Who could work with someone breathing down their neck and humming.

Prowl's processor began to feel like a thick fog had clouded it, and his vision swam with black tendrils. His hearing was tuning out, and hot flushes bathed his entire frame.

"Jus' a joke!" Jazz exclaimed as he shook the crashing mech a bit. "Ah was jus' jokin'!"

_Just a joke. He was just kidding. Jokes are meant to be illogical, making them logical. _

Prowl shook his helm, ridding himself of the last of the fog. He shrugged of Jazz's grip.

"Sorry." Jazz said sheepishly.

Prowl merely sighed. He had little time to respond when Jazz grabbed his shoulder again and started to drag him from the room.

"What are you doing?" Prowl asked as he withheld from clinging to the door.

"Time for yer break, Prowler." Jazz stated. "Ya' can chill in the Rec. room, if ya want."

"I _want_ to finish my report."

"Rec. room it is." Jazz agreed, holding onto Prowl's wrist as if the Datsun was a sparkling.

Prowl was forced onto the sofa, and a cube of his high energy energon was shoved into his hands. Jazz plopped down besides him, sipping his own normal cube. Prowl looked at Jazz oddly a moment until the white mech asked him what the problem was.

"How did you get this?" Prowl asked. "I didn't give you the code."

"Code?" Jazz asked with a scoff. "Tha' codes so easy a sparklin' could crack it."

Prowl raised an optic ridge for a moment, but chose to ignore it. He had a cube of energon, that's all that mattered right now. Just as Prowl was getting comfortable around Jazz and in the quiet room, Jazz's comm. link began to beep.

Prowl watched quietly as Jazz pressed a digit to his temple.

"Wha' happened?" Jazz asked. "Cliff and Brawn? Again? Nobody's offlined, right?"

Jazz paused as he waited for an answer. He vented a heavy sigh.

"Ah'm on mah way."

"What happened?" Prowl asked as Jazz shut off his comm.

"There was a fight." Jazz answered. "Brawn and Cliff got inta some kinda dispute. Gotta go break 'em up."

"Do you require assistance?" Prowl asked.

Jazz shook his helm after a moments hesitation. "They were probably fightin' over somethin' stupid. Don't want ya to crash."

Prowl scowled at Jazz's little trust in his mental capabilities. On second thought though, Jazz had a point. Most fights were over little things that were incredibly stupid and extremely crash worthy.

"Fine." Prowl returned.

"Ah'll be back in a few breems." Jazz promised as he hurridly left after putting on a stern face.

Prowl settled back onto the sofa and took another sip of his cube. It was rather relaxing, sitting there in the quiet, empty room and sipping a cube of energon.

Prowl quickly finished the cube, and rose to dispose of it. Still a bit unsteady, he went to go sit back down. He was absolutely not expecting to be _glomped _from behind. Prowl shouted a bit in surprise, and a bit of fear.

"Pro-oo-owel!" a voice sing-songed.

Prowl shook and shed a few tons as Sideswipe fell from him. He spun around to face the perpetrator, only to be grabbed in a tight embrace before he could even see the red mech.

"What are you doing?" Prowl exclaimed as he struggled in the red idiot's tight grip.

"I missed you so much!" Sideswipe cried out cheerfully.

"You saw me this morning." Prowl stated, sounding very ticked.

"So? I missed seeing you for nearly a groon!" Sideswipe exclaimed, patting Prowl's back so hard it hurt.

Biting his glossa to keep from shouting or hissing in pain, he shoved Sideswipe away with a new found strenght. Sideswipe was smirking broadly, almost snickering, but didn't say anything as Prowl scolded him and fought of a crash.

"Just what in Primus' name were you doing?" Prowl asked, trying to not lose his temper. "I should have you thrown in the brig for attacking a superior officer."

"Aw, Prowl." Sideswipe said with a kick of his pede. "I was just hugging you. I missed you."

"I find that hard to believe." Prowl stated. A crash was becoming more and more inevitable. He pointed at the door. "Just go."

Sideswipe took his chance like a hungry sparkling took an energon goodie, and fled from the room. Prowl was about to sit back down, again, when a voice gasped in shock behind him.

"Prowl?"

"What?" Prowl asked as he turned to see a snickering Jazz.

Jazz stopped snickering almost instantly, and his face showed nothing but pity.

"Is this a call, Prowl?" Jazz asked.

"What?" Prowl asked, tilting his helm to the side a bit.

"Ah was talkin to yer bro, Smokey. Ya know how he's all into that psychological stuff?" Jazz stated.

Prowl nodded his affirmation in the fact. His brother was a resident psychologist, and was usually busy with cases of PTSD and the like.

"He-he was talkin' 'bout how ya might have subtle lil' calls fer help." Jazz admitted, looking at Prowl, yet not at him at the same time. His visor was focusing on a part just above his shoulders. "Is this one of 'em?"

"One of what?"

"A call fer help."

"What?" Prowl exclaimed. "What are you talking about?"

"What ya' did to yerself." Jazz motioned at Prowl's side.

"I didn't do anything." Prowl stated firmly.

"But-wait, you really don't know?" Jazz asked, a smirk crossing his face again.

"Know what?" Prowl asked with a raise of his shoulders and servos. He felt something on his back move, poke him even. "What the-"

Jazz frantically waved his servos." Don' look!"

It was far too late though. Prowl stood in shock, as he looked at his back. His back was entirely out of view, though, as two rather large wings blocked his image. They were made of some soft, organic matter and were in shades of soft pink and pure white. Prowl snapped his helm to look at the other side, to be greeted by the same image.

"H-how-"Prowl stuttered.

Jazz was doing his best to keep from laughing. It really wasn't funny, but _looked_ hilarious! The wings weren't even symmetrical or even. The pink and white feathers (as that is what they turned out to be) were messily glued onto thin artists wire. The glue was gathered on the wings in distasteful clumps, and the wire showed through in numerous parts. For a half-aft job, it wasn't half bad.

"Now, Prowler, there's gotta be some kind of logical explanation for this." Jazz stated calmly, his voice wavering with laughter only once.

Prowl ran scenarios through his taxed processor.

**No logical explanation found. Wings are made of organic material. Illogical. Error...Err-oorrr...E-Error.**

With the sound of a blowing fuze, Prowl twitched and fell to the floor in an unceramounious heap. Jazz sighed. So much for keeping him from crashing.

OoOoOoOoO

Jazz shifted on his pedes a bit as he waited for Ratchet to finish up with Prowl. It had only been a few breem, but Prowl hadn't roused yet. Jazz had dragged him though the halls to the med-bay, the Datsun had been placed on a berth, and I.V. had been jabbed into his servo, and he had remained in lock through the entire ordeal.

"He gonna be all right?" Jazz asked.

"He'll be fine." Ratchet stated. "I put him in an induced stasis while he overheats, though."

"Wha' for?" Jazz asked. He had forgotten about Prowl overheating with the crashes now.

"Well, for one thing, I gotta get those wings off him." Ratchet answered, jabbing a thumb digit at the feathery appendages. "Also, I don't want him to get too warm and start purging from the fever."

Jazz just nodded. Ratchet had cut the feathered wings down to little metal rods and a few stray feathers, but he still had to unjam them from his doorwing nubs and clean them from infection. Ratchet vented as he had his work all laid out for him.

"What idiot did this?" he asked as he carefully pried one of the wings out.

Jazz shook his helm, his visor dimming in anger. "Don' know but Ah'm sure as the Pit gonna find out."

"I have a few ideas if you want them." Ratchet offered. "And a few spare wrenches."

Jazz shook his helm. "Ah got some ideas of mah own. Ah don' need a wrench either, but a blow torch might just cut it."

Ratchet shook his helm. "If it were me, I'd give you the torch. Optimus wouldn't like you melting the idiot though."

"Damn." Jazz sulked. "Ah well. Ah'll get ta the bottom of this."

Ratchet nodded as he continued to remove sticky glue and feathers from Prowl's back armour and removing the wire from Prowl's doorwing nubs. How whoever had put these in him had shoved it in so far without Prowl's knowledge was besides Ratchet. He shook his helm as he tried to dissolve the hardening glue.

Ratchet didn't know a lot about what happened, but he knew enough about what was to come. Whoever did it was going to have to deal with Jazz, and that was about worse then the helmache Prowl was going to have when he woke up.

He'd be okay though, his brothers were on their way.

OoOoOoOoO

Jazz stormed up the halls, going one place and one place only. He stopped before a door, and pounded on it as if the place was on fire. The door opened to a very groggy yellow mech with white head fins.

"Wha-what do you want?" Sunstreaker mumbled as he tried to keep his optic open.

"Where's yer brother?" Jazz asked sharply, startling the tired mech.

"I dunno." Sunstreaker stated, a bit more awake now, but not much. "Wash racks in here, I think. I mean, the liquids running so-"

"Let meh in." Jazz ordered.

"What for?" Sunstreaker exclaimed. "I just came back from a mission off base. I'm tired. Can't you come back later?"

"Let meh in." Jazz repeated, firmer.

Sunstreaker sighed. Jazz was just as stubborn as he was, but the difference was Jazz wasn't exhausted. He stepped back and let the door slide open the rest of the way. Jazz pushed right by him and stormed into the wash racks.

Sunstreaker was about to collapse back onto his berth when startled cries and shouts started to come from the wash room.

"Yer commin' with meh!"

"I didn't do anything! Let me go!"

"Ah ain't accused ya' of nothin' yet, but now Ah sure am!"

"Ow! Primus dammit, yer twisting my servo out of the socket!"

"Ah'll be doin' much worse if ya' don' come with meh now."

Sunstreaker scratched the back of his helm in confusion as Jazz stormed out of the wash racks, dragging a dripping wet and slightly sudsy Sideswipe by the servo. It was twisted at an odd angle and most likely dislocated.

"What are you doing?" Sunstreaker asked in a startled voice.

"Go backta recharge." Jazz ordered, his glaring visor staring straight at Sideswipe. "Nothin' ta see here."

Jazz started to drag the protesting Sideswipe from the room. Sunstreaker got in front of him, sleepiness blurring his vision but still worried for his brother.

"You'll get him back alive." Jazz promised, making sure to promise nothing more.

Sunstreaker gave a quick nod and got out of the saboteur's way. Sideswipe's optics grew large as Sunstreaker went back to bed, and the door slid closed and sealed. The next thing he knew, Jazz had hit a diode in his neck and everything went black.

OoOoOoOoO

A bright light was piercing his optics. Problem was, his optics weren't even fully open yet. With a low groan, he forced them open. Big mistake. He found himself chained to a seat, a bright fluorescent light shining on him in a single bulb.

"Wha-"

"Sideswipe." an eerie voice with an all to familiar accent echoed off the four walls.

Sideswipe struggled against his binds. "Hey! Lemme out!"

"After ya answer meh."the dark accented voice stated.

Two pedesteps, then the white figure came into view. He was illuminated only by the extra light that was not directed on Sideswipe's frame. Sideswipe struggled again.

"Jazz?"he asked, looking into the blue visor.

Jazz didn't answer him, but instead peered back so much that Sideswipe fell still and shuddered.

"Did ya prank Prowl?" he asked in a voice so stern, yet deathly cool and collective, it chilled Sideswipe's spark.

Sideswipe nodded. No point in lying. "Yeah."

"What'd ya do to 'im?" Jazz asked.

"I-I..." Sideswipe stuttered. "I gave him...some wings." he barely mumbled.

"What did you do?" Jazz repeated, his voice telling Sideswipe to speak up.

"I gave him some wings." Sideswipe repeated, not able to look up at Jazz's face.

"Why'd ya do it?" Jazz asked next, so fast that it startled Sideswipe.

"I-,er, 'cause...I don't know." Sideswipe admitted. "He was easy to prank, at the time, I guess."

"Where'd ya get the materials?" Jazz continued, his frame not so much as twitching.

"Sunstreaker and Hound." Sideswipe said, but quickly added, "But neither knew what I was planning to do! Hound thought Sunny needed them, and Sunny didn't even know about my plan."

Jazz nodded his helm once. "Yer gonna be apologizin' ta them once Ah'm done with ya."

"I know." Sideswipe relucantly agreed.

"Do ya know what ya did?" Jazz asked.

"Um, yeah." Sideswipe stated in a 'duh' voice. "I pranked Prowl."

"Do ya' know _what_ happened ta Prowl?" Jazz asked.

"About him being captured and all?" Sideswipe asked, confusion quickly setting in.

"No, after ya pranked 'im." Jazz answered.

"I heard he crashed." Sideswipe stated.

"So, ya don't know what's goin' on with him?" Jazz asked.

Sideswipe shook his helm. "What?"

"We, meanin' me and Ratch, Optimus, Prowl's bros and Prowl himself, were tryin' ta keep Prowl from crashin'." Jazz stated firmly. "'Is systems can't take it right now."

"I didn't know." Sideswipe admitted, shifting uneasily.

Jazz took a step forward, and typed in an unlock code for the cuffs and chains. They slid to the floor with rattles and metallic clinks. Sideswipe rose to his pedes, rubbing his wrists.

"So...what's my punishment?" Sideswipe asked.

"First, yer gonna come with meh and see what ya did." Jazz stated.

"What I did?"

"Then, yer gonna apologize ta Prowl, Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Hound, Optimus, Bluestreak, Smokescreen and meh." Jazz continued. "_Then_ we'll get to yer punishment."

"I have to apologize to _all_ of them?" Sideswipe asked. "I only did it to Prowl...okay, and Hound and Sunny."

"Yeah, but ya' affected all them others too." Jazz stated as he led the red twin up the halls. "Ya gave Optimus extra work as Prowl couldn't finish his. Blue and Smokey had the graveyard shift last night, and now can't get their rest as their with Prowler. Ah have ta take care of you and make sure you do yer penance."

Sideswipe vented. As it turned out, Jazz wasn't quite finished yet.

"Ratchet now hasta take car o' Prowler an' make sure his systems don't shut down or he overheats too much." Jazz continued. "An Prowl gets the worst of it, havin' ta deal with bein' sick and hurt 'n all."

Sideswipe shuffled his pede a bit before the med-bay door. "Wow." he said lowly.

Jazz merely pushed him into the double doors. Sideswipe looked about, but didn't see Prowl in any of the close berths. At the far end of the room, a curtain was drawn, and the faint sounds of someone being sick was heard through the curtain.

Sideswipe shuddered. He hated hearing, seeing, smelling or _anything_ that had to deal with a bot purging. He had little say, though, as Jazz pushed him again to get him walking. Sideswipe stopped again before the curtain, but moved again before Jazz could push him again.

The curtain was pushed aside a bit for the two bots to pass. The small room, if it could be called that, was a bit crowded with it's two new members.

Prowl was curled on a berth in the middle of the closed off curtain. He lay curled on his side, venting raggidly. He shook and trembled as fever racked his processor, and moaned softly in pain as his doorwing nubs ached. The air smelled of recently purged energon, making Sideswipe feel a bit sick to his tank.

"Sideswipe 'ere's got somethin' ta say." Jazz stated.

Bluestreak and Smokescreen, both with Prowl and trying to keep him calm in his fever addled state, looked up with scowls on their faces.

"I'm, er, sorry...'bout what I did." Sideswipe stammered. "I...shouldn't have. I didn't know that _this_ would happen, though."

"Still no excuse for what you did." Smokescreen stated, twitching his doorwings in an irritated manor.

Both he and Bluestreak flared their wings in an attempt to intimidate the red Twin. Also, to make up for Prowl's lack of wings. They were Prowl's wings now.

The intimidation thing worked, as Sideswipe took a step back.

"It's not, I know."he stated.

"Maybe you should apologize to Prowl personally when he's more...lucid." Bluestreak suggested.

"I-I heard...him." Prowl panted. "It's all...right."

"No, it's not." Smokescreen argued.

"He didn't know." Prowl slowly replied. "An...accident."

"Sorry this happened to ya, mech." Jazz stated. "After all we did ta keep ya from crashin', SIdeswipe here was still able to manage."

Jazz ended in a dry chuckle, one that nobody continued. He pulled Sideswipe aside again, about to pull him from the med-bay.

"Feel better, Prowler." Jazz stated as he started to leave, a firm and almost crushing grip on Sideswipe's servo.

Jazz dragged Sideswipe out, and personally saw to it that each bot that he had mentioned got a full and meaningful apology. In the end, Optimus and Jazz had both seen fit that Sideswipe had double monitor duty for five orns, and cleaned the base top to bottom in his off time. The reusable energon cubes had never shone so much, the latrines were never so clean, and one could practically see their own reflexion in the well waxed floors. In the end, Sideswipe was very tired, but pleased with his penance.

* * *

Author's Note- Yes, I hate Sideswipe for what he did too. GIVE HIM DISHES!

Also, I had a very good question last chapter.

'Why didn't Prowl's brothers comfort him/feel him when he was having the nightmares/ after them?' (Sound about right?)

Well, they were on the grave yard shift. They missed a lot of shifts when Prowl was really sick, and had to make up for them. Also, they knew that Jazz was with him. They then were too tired to see him first thing after their shifts, on account of being up all night with monitors and patrols and all.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

A dark blue mech with a gold visor skillfully maneuvered the steering panel of _POS_. The little, once-white, rusted ship bumped along as it slowly sputtered across the sky. The blue mech checked his coordinates again before comparing them to his longitude and latitude.

"Right on target." he stated to himself.

Much to his unsurprise, a ping alerted him of an incoming comm. He pressed the glowing, red button on the ship's panel. A burst of static met his audios. With an irritated vent, he twisted a gray knob. The device spurted static and warbled until a faint voice was heard. A bit more tuning, and the correct station was reached.

: Crystal Landing Station 4.0 contacting unknown aircraft. Display code or be fired on :

"Thanks fer the warning." the mech muttered as he sent his landing code.

: Code cleared. What is your request? :

: Well, Ah got a ship and I'm gettin' close ta the ground. Ah'm pretty sure anybot would say Ah wanted ta land :

: Skip the wisecracks and head towards landing bay 6. You are clear to land :

: Thank ya' kindly : the visored mech stated with a bit of sarcasm as he headed towards the correct landing bay.

A bright orange mech stood in the middle of it, waving him down. The _POS_ was skillfully guided towards the ground as the landing gear lowered. The wheels hit the ground with a heavy thump and screeched a bit as it skidded forward.

/ Stop / The orange mech signaled as he stepped a bit back.

The ship continued forward, screeching loudly.

/ Stop / he signaled again. / Stop. Stop. Stop /

"Stop!" he shouted as the ship continued forward.

The orange mech's back was planted against the closed door of the holding garage for the ships. He shuttered his neon blue optics as he waited for the incoming impact and the crunch of his metal against the front of the ship. He flinched as the horrible screech filled the air.

A soft thud reached his audios, and he hesitantly opened on optic. He gasped out, as he found out that he had been holding his vents, to find himself still online and pinned to the garage door.

Two more signalling bots ran out, one bright green and the other neon yellow, and signaled the rusty ship to move back a bit. As his chassis became unpinned, he found that his pedes had been turned to liquid and he sunk to the ground. The yellow mech came over to him and helped him to his pedes as the green mech finished up.

"Sorry 'bout tha'." a visored mech said a few minutes after he had exited the ship. "Ah thought fer sure the brakes were gonna give out." the blue mech chuckled. "Thought ya were gonna be nothin' more but a memory and an oil splatter!"

The orange mech whimpered as he gripped the yellow mech tighter to stay upright.

The green mech shook his helm in distaste. "Name's Landing. The yellow mech's Yield, and the orange bot you nearly killed is my brother, Gear."

"Sorry 'bout tha'." the blue mech stated. "Wait, yer name's Landing, and yer bro's name is Gear? Yer kiddin', right?"

"No." Landing stated with all the seriousness in the world.

"Creator's musta had a heck of a sense of humor." the blue mech stated.

"What's your name?" Yield asked. "Or do we just call you Aft-hole?"

The blue mech scowled. "Ya' can call meh Meister."

All three faces froze.

"M-Meister?" Gear stuttered. "As in-"

"Yep." Meister stated. "Now if you'll excuse meh, Ah got somethin' Ah need ta take care of."

The three mechs nodded as the blue mech walked away. He stopped and turned around after a few steps.

"Could ya have somebot fix the brakes on _Piece of Scrap_ for meh? Ah'd hate ta run over somebot I actually cared about."

With that, Meister turned once again and left the landing base. All three mechs breathed a sigh of relief once he was out of their personal scanning range.

OoOoOoOoO

Meister knocked on the door of a rickety, run down, dirty, abandoned-looking building. He tapped his pede impatiently as he waited for an answer. He pounded again, growling when he again received no answer.

"Ah know you'r in there! Open up 'fore I bust the door down!"

There was a long pause. Meister was very well about to break down the door when it's broken knob twisted back and forth. The rather primitive door was jerked back, and creaked open as a light rust colored mech poked his helm out.

"Meister! Me old pal! How ya been, you glitch, you!" the rust colored mech exclaimed in a cracked voice.

"Skip it, PackRat." Meister stated as he pushed past the shorter yet larger then mini-bot mech.

PackRat quickly got out of his way. This mech was something else. He grinned through dry, cracked lip plates, showing his ugly denta. They were browned and yellow, chipped and dirty, missing in places while others shone with gold plating. His optics were a brownish gold color, and one was cracked and half shuttered at all times.

His frame was rust colored, made that way and from actual rust. His one pede was twisted, forcing him to walk with a limping gait. His digits were long and clawed, and his every joint creaked from improper care as he moved about.

"What brings ya to my humble domain?" PackRat asked as he led Meister deeper into his home.

PackRat was hurrying about before Meister, shoving items he didn't wish seen into cupboards and under the sofa or chair. He quickly pushed over an old, torn, and stained seat and lifted it back up, clearing it of it's previous contents of garbage and data-pads.

"Please, have a seat." PackRat asked in a near sneer.

"Quit stallin'." Meister ordered. "Ya know good an' well why Ah'm here."

"Ah, yes! Your order. Give me a klik, old buddy, old pal. I'll bring it to you in a mere breem." PackRat stated as he hurried from the room into a back room.

Mesiter chuckled as he observed the room he was left in. A makeshift living room, or something like that. Wire hung from the yellowed walls, and a single light bulb hung from the middle of the ceiling. It had no cover or shade, and gave only enough light to let one see what they were stepping in. It flickered from time to time, and threatened at any moment to give.

Meister vented out a bit to clear his vents of the smoke that hung about the room like a thick fog, most likely from whatever PackRat was currently on.

Speaking of that mech, here he came now.

"Me an' my buddies got you a good deal on these here wings you wanted." PackRat stated as he held a large box in his servos.

Meister stepped forward and lifted the brown lid, ignoring the chalky substance coating the top of it. Inside lay two, perfectly uniform, black and white doorwings. Mesiter lifted one and inspected it in the dim light. He nodded a few times as he set it back.

"Ah knew Ah could count on ya." Mesiter stated.

PackRat grinned. As Mesiter went to take the box, PackRat lifted it away from the dark blue mech with a wag of his digit.

"Ah, ah,ah." PackRat stated. "It's gonna cost you."

"Ah got the creds right 'ere." Meister stated as he pulled a black sack from his subspace.

PackRat smirked as he scanned it with his optics. "Not enough."

"There's 1,000 credits in this 'ere pouch. Ah counted them mahself." Meister stated. "We had a deal."

PackRat set the box down on a rickety energon table, and stood between Meister and the wings. He placed a hand over his spark and put on one of the most trusting, most innocent face he could muster.

"Ya see, friend, I have another offer on these here wings." PackRat explained with mock, yet seemingly real, concern. "The other bots are offering me 3,000 credits for these here wings, ya see. Now, I knew you need these wings bad for some reason or another. Now, I know for a fact that you wouldn't pay over 2,500 credits for these here, piddly, little, wings. You see, I'm making you a deal. Yeah, a deal!"

Meister smirked. "A deal, eh?"

"Yep, this sorry excuse of wings don't cost 3,000 credits. I wouldn't want to cheat you that way." PackRat stated.

Mesiter grinned. This bluff was one of the most transparent he had ever seen! He cast a look at the set of wings before looking back at PackRat.

"Yer righ'. Those wings sure ain't worth 3,000 creds. But you seem ta need the creds real bad, don't ya?"

PackRat hurridly nodded, trying to look pitiful.

"Ah wouldn't want ta get in the way of a mech and a good deal." Mesiter stated as he rested a servo over the rusty mech's shoulder. "Ah'll tell ya what, I'll go and get the wings someplace else."

"Yes, yes! That would be-wait, what?" PackRat stuttered.

"Ah see ya need those creds somethin' awful. Gotta feed the fam anyway ya can, right?" Meister smiled as he knew PackRat had nobody but himself to take care of, and he did a poor job of that.

"What?"

"You give those wings ta the better offer." Meister stated as he turned to leave, subspacing the pouch of credits. "Ah'll go get 'em someplace else."

"What?"

"See ya 'round."

"Wait!"

Mesiter stopped and drew his hand back from the doorknob. He turned to see PackRat with a digit to his temple, in an obvious and fake comm. call.

"What was that? Oh, really? Well, that's just too bad! Yes, I understand." PackRat said as he frequently nodded.

"Who was tha'?" Meister asked.

"My other client. Turns out, they don't need these wings." PackRat stated. "I'd be happy to give them to you for the agreed on 2,000."

"See ya'."

"1,000!"

Mesiter paused a moment, but continued for the door again.

"700 credits! Please! I need them bad!" PackRat exclaimed.

"Ya know wha'?" Meister asked as he turned around. "Ah think Ah can do tha'."

PackRat breathed an audible sigh of relief. The designated amount of credits were handed over, and the box containing the wings were traded to Meister.

"Pleasure doin' business with ya." Mesiter stated with his servos full as he headed back up the alley.

"Likewise." PackRat muttered.

The blue mech turned and disappeared into the dark of night and the hustle of the city.

OoOoOoOoO

Mesiter skillfully maneuvered his newly fixed _POS_ out of the landing bay in the Crystal City and into the midnight sky. He was tired, and wanted to get back to his own berth. He looked into the seat next to him, holding his cargo of two matching doorwings.

He turned back to the windshield. He looked into the golden visor and dark blue armour.

"Ah knew Ah forgot somethin'." he stated as he flipped open a panel in his servo.

He pressed the first button in it, and then pressed in a short combination.

10-1-26-26

Without a sound, his blue armour faded to white and his gold visor returned to light blue. He checked his reflection again.

"Much better."

OoOoOoOoO

"I don't know how you did it." Ratchet stated as he scanned the pair of doorwings. "They're just right. A few tweaks of a wire, here and there, but they'll do."

Jazz grinned. "Glad Ah could be of service."

"How did you do it?" Ratchet asked.

"Do wha'?" Jazz asked innocently.

"Get these here wings. I know you ordered them from Epsilon and got them at the Crystal City, but I don't know of any place around anymore that makes medical parts." Ratchet stated. "I usually have to trade with another medic for parts I need."

"Ah got mah ways." Jazz stated .

"Do we want to know, Jazz?" Ratchet asked.

"Probably not."

"Thought so."

"So... when do they go on Prowler?" Jazz asked.

"As soon as he's prepped for surgery." Ratchet stated. "Wheeljack is getting him now."

"Prowl don't know tha' you got these yet?" Jazz asked. "Ah though he would be one o' the first ta know."

Ratchet waved him off as he pressed a digit to his comm. link. He nodded and sent a quick reply.

"He knows now." Ratchet stated. "Now, get out of here. I have to get ready."

Jazz gave a quick nod before leaving. He would hate to get Ratchet angry as his helm would most likely end up aching and with a dent. Also, Ratchet usually took his excess anger out on his next patient. In this case, it would be Prowl while he was under the knife. An angry Ratchet and a knife do not mix well.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl shifted a bit as he lay on the medical berth in the sterile room. He lay flat on his stomach, his back to the ceiling. He didn't flinch as the cold end of a needle went into his neck cable.

"All right." Ratchet said. "Prowl, I want you to start counting down from 10."

"From 10?" Prowl asked.

"Yes."

Prowl vented and shifted a bit as he started to count.

"10...9...8..." Prowl started slowly.

A thick fog began to fill his processor.

"7...6...5..."

The room began to go blurry, and the bots before him blended into smears along with everything else.

"6...7...8..."

**Shut down activated**

Ratchet watched as Prowl slurred his numbers. He couldn't help but smirk as he screwed them up. The blue optics shuttered, and he counted to 10 himself, just be sure that his patient was good and knocked out.

"All right." Ratchet said. "Perceptor, hand me the first doorwing. First Aid, I need the size 7 welder."

Both bots hurriedly handed the CMO the items as he asked for them. Ratchet carefully lined the first doorwing into place, and ordered Wheeljack to hold it steady. Ratchet took the welder, and heated it up.

The welder was a long, thin, silver stick. It came in an assortment of sizes, but each one had the same function. It's black, rubber end was held as it's tip turned red and then white as it heated to protoform melting heat. As wires were moved together, the welder would fuze them together in mere kliks.

Ratchet skillfully connected the main energon line to the largest tube in the doorwing. The welder melted the ends of the tube together, and slowly went back to a normal gray from the first red shine. Neural networks were connected, as were sensory nerves and nanites.

"Wheeljack, I need a size 24 brace." Ratchet stated as he handed the welder off to First Aid and held the doorwing for Wheeljack.

"On it." Wheeljack stated.

"Perceptor, begin attachment of the second wing." Ratchet ordered.

"Yes, sir." Perceptor said as he took up the next wing, had First Aid hold it in place, and begin welding on the second wing.

Wheeljack came back with the brace. Ratchet took it and again had Wheeljack hold the wing in place. The brace was easily slid under the wings, and connected into a slot in Prowl's armour.

"I need a check here." Percptor stated as he pulled his welder out of Prowl's frame.

Ratchet quickly looked over the scientists work. "Good. That wires a bit loose, though. Hand me the welder and go get a nother brace."

Perceptor nodded and took two steps. He turned around with a small sound of confusion.

"Size 24."

Perceptor again turned and went to the storage area. As he returned with the brown brace, he handed it to Ratchet, who had just finished welding.

The brace was slid into place, and the few medical tools were gathered up. Ratchet gave the work a once over, then a twice over, then had First Aid look over it as well. One could never, ever, be too careful.

"Interrupt anesthesia?" First Aid asked.

"Yeah." Ratchet replied. "Then get him into a quiet recovery room."

"Why can't I just put him in the normal area?" First Aid questioned as he went to get the drugs to wake Prowl up.

"Sideswipe was injured due to a fight awhile ago." Ratchet stated. "He's about ready to be discharged, or killed by me."

"I see." First Aid stated as he started to fill up a vial to inject Prowl with.

"What is that?" Ratchet asked as he noticed the purplish hue of the bottle.

"Your normal, run-of-the-mill Epsichlomax." First Aid replied as he slid the needle in and slowly began to inject it.

"Stop!" Ratchet exclaimed as he yanked the other mech's hand way from the injection. "That stuff's too strong."

"Too strong?" First Aid parroted. "It's what you always use to wake up patients."

"Prowl is a bit...sensitive, to certain medications." Ratchet stated. "Always has been, from the way his medical records look."

"What do I do?" First Aid asked, a bit of panic in his voice as he quickly removed the needle. "I used a fourth of it's contents!"

"First off, calm down." Ratchet said. "You can't give him the other drug, the two don't mix well."

First Aid nodded.

"I guess you'll just have to give him the rest of it." Ratchet stated. "He'll be pretty out of it, but we can keep an optic on him."

"So...give him the whole thing?" First Aid asked as he took up the Epsichlomax again.

Ratchet nodded. "Yeah, but do it quickly. He already has some in his systems."

First Aid gave a quick nod and quickly injected the black and white, re-winged mech with the rest of the liquid.

OoOoOoOoO

"I think he's waking up."

"No, slag."

Prowl shifted a bit as he unshuttered his optics. He immediately reshuttered them at the assault of light and neon colors that filled his optics. He slowly unshuttered them a slit again.

He noticed a pure white bot with the most neon blue visor he had ever seen. The next one was a bright, charcoal gray. How could gray even become neon, anyways? The third one was a pure white, neon blue, and hot red. The last two were winged.

Prowl grinned crookedly.

"Whats goin' on?" he asked, voice slurring.

Jazz looked at Smokescreen with an odd, confused look on his face. Bluestreak was snickering, and Smokesceen was smirking.

"Ratchet gave him the wrong drug." Smokescreen snorted.

"Isn't tha' bad?" Jazz asked.

Bluestreak shook his helm. "Naw, he'll just be loopy for awhile. It's always so funny when Prowl gets drugged. Well, it wouldn't be funny if he was actually _taking_ drugs, but when a doctor gives them to him that okay-"

Smokescreen sighed as he put a hand over Bluestreak's mouth. "We get the point."

"Point?" Prowl parroted. "Sharp? You shouldn't play with knives."

"No, you shouldn't." Smokescreen agreed, using a voice he would to a young youngling.

Prowl looked about. Everything was so bright and neon! And moving. Everything moved about on its own, bouncing or swimming before him. His optics fell on the white and blue, wingless mech.

"You're pretty."

Jazz started. "What?"

"You're pretty." Prowl repeated, with a meaning smile that would have been taken for drunk by anyone else. "You're pretty, Meister."

Jazz froze. His processor worked hard to find an excuse. He was about to stutter something out when both Smokescreen and Bluestreak burst out laughing.

"Meister?" Smokescreen repeated. "Jazz isn't Meister! That's gotta be the dumbest thing he's ever said while out of it."

While it looked like he was in the clear, Jazz still had to cover up some more. He blurted out the first thing he thought of.

"Hey, Prowler, do ya' know who Bluestreak is?"

Prowl pushed himself off of his stomach a bit to face the snowy white, bright blue visored mech.

"That's a cute name for a turbo-puppy!" Prowl exclaimed, his optics wide with excitement and fuzzy with the drug. His every word was slurred and slow. "Why didn' ya tell me you had a turbo...turbo-puppy?"

Jazz inwardly sighed. "Ah don' got a turbo-puppy. Ah'm actually allergic."

Prowl lay back down, a very disappointed look on his face. "Too bad. I like turbo-puppys. Sunswipe had a turbo-puppy once. He showed me pict...pictures of it."

"You mean Sunstreaker." Bluestreak corrected.

"Yeah." Prowl mumbled as he burried his face in the pillow. He moved his helm back to look at the others. "Tell his aft of a brother, Sidestreaker, ta stop messing with that security camera."

"You mean Sideswipe." Smokescreen stated. "And he's in the medical bay."

"I know." Prowl stated. "He's right there."

Two sets of optics and one visor followed the shaking, pointed hand to look out the semi-covered window. Sideswipe was clearly seen hanging from the ceiling and messing with a security camera.

Jazz vented heavily as he rose and quickly left the room. The others watched in silence as Jazz tossed random items at the red Lambo, and said Lambo tried to defend himself while hanging off of the ceiling. He soon fell off as a large, silver tray knocked him in the helm. Both bot and camera fell to the floor, and a distinct, small trail of smoke rose from where the camera was.

Ratchet soon joined the silent picture, and was seen flailing his arms about as both Jazz and Ratchet yelled at the red twin, their mouths moving but making no noise through the thick glass. Ratchet then began to beat the twin in the side of the helm with a wrench, leaving the three spectators to imagine what profanities were coming out of his quickly moving mouth.

Ratchet was soon seen dragging Sideswipe away, and Jazz scooped up the smoking camera. He stole a welder from a drawer and went back into the room.

"Damn mech." Jazz stated as he slid the door closed behind him. "Now Ah gotta fix the camera 'fore Red goes crazy."

"I know how ta fix it." Prowl stated, still slurring and obviously dizzy.

"Yeah, right." Smokescreen snickered. "Like we're going to hand you a welder right now."

"I can dictate what to do." Prowl stated, his face in a very prominent pout.

"Works for meh." Jazz stated as he sat down.

He cracked open the side of it, revealing all of the wires and such. Prowl looked it over for a moment as he lay on his side.

"See, you take the...the red wire." Prowl stated.

Jazz carefully used the tips of his digits to pick up the half-connected red wire. "Yep."

"And ya stick it...up your aft!" Prowl exclaimed with a snort and snicker as he fell onto his side with a hand over his mouth.

"Prowl." Jazz glowered as the other brothers started to laugh.

"Okay, okay..."Prowl pouted again. "You take the...the red one."

"Got it." Jazz assured him.

"And you...stick it-" Prowl cut himself off with drunken laughter and snorts.

"Prowler!" Jazz exclaimed.

"Fine." Prowl stated.

He lay his helm down for a moment and squeezed his optics shut. He pinched the bridge of his olfactory before looking at the camera again. Color was dimming, but the room was still spinning.

"You take the red wire-"

"Ah all ready got the red wire!"

"And you switch places with the blue." Prowl stated." And cross the yellow and green so that the green overlaps the yellow and touches the red."

Jazz did as directed. The camera whirred a bit, and it's lens focused. A red light turned on and started to flash.

"Primus." Prowl mumbled. "My helm."

"Looks like we have you back." Bluestreak muttered, his wings sagging in disappointment. "So much for that."

"What happened?" Prowl asked as his processor began to shed itself of the thick fog like a snake does its skin.

"You came out of surgery." Smokescreen explained. "You've got your wings back."

Prowl turned his helm to look, and indeed did see a pair of black and white doorwings sprouted from his back. He tried to move them, but found them immobile.

"Doc put 'em in a brace for now." Jazz stated. "They'll come off in 'bout groon or so."

"Pleasant." Prowl stated as he hen noticed the brown straps holding his wings steady.

"It's only for awhile." Bluestreak said. "It's not like you didn't have them before."

"Wha'?" Jazz asked.

"We all had braces." Smokescreen stated. "Most Praxians do."

Jazz nodded. He got the anticipated comm. link from Rad Alert, frantically ranting about how he couldn't see into the left corner of the med-bay. Did he know how many Decepticons could sneak out of a corner in the middle of the Autobot base without being detected?

"Ah gotta git." Jazz stated as he picked up the now fixed camera. "Get some rest, Prowler. I'll see ya' later."

Prowl nodded slowly, trying not to jar his pounding helm. Smokescreen and Bluestreak stuck around as he fell into recharge, clearing himself of the last of the drug in his systems.

* * *

Author's Note- It was so fun writing Jazz as Meister! I did NOT steal that from anyone, as I have read a few stories with Jazz as Meister. If you look it up an TFWiki, Jazz's codename really is Meister.

It was also super fun writing a drugged Prowl. Dern mech nearly gave away the secret!

Did anyone notice anything again with the number code?


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

"Prowl, I feel terrible asking this of you."

"I understand, sir." Prowl returned, his helm looking straight at his CO with an unreadable face. He was thankful that his wings were still in the braces to keep him from lowering them.

"Prowl, it's really not fair." Optimus stated. "I shouldn't have to ask this of you."

"Rules are rules, sir." Prowl stated. "There is nothing you or I can do about it."

"Prowl, if it makes it any easier on you, you could tell one bot and one bot only." Optimus offered. "And then they could cover for you."

"It is quite all right, sir." Prowl answered. "I know the information better then anyone else. It would be most logical for me to say what happened at the meeting."

"Prowl, I am terribly sorry of asking this of you, so soon after it happened." Optimus apologized again, his very voice and face radiating with pity and concern. "I've put it off as long as I could, though."

"Really, I understand." Prowl said with a raise of his hand.

"Is there any time that this might be best for you?" Optimus asked, still taking how Prowl must feel into consideration.

"The sooner the better, sir." Prowl answered.

"Would this afternoon be too soon?" Optimus asked.

Prowl paused a moment. He was once again thankful that the brace held his doorwings still, as a nervous twitch was just supressed.

"That would be fine, sir."

"All right. You are dismissed." Optimus stated.

Prowl rose to his pedes, saluted his Commanding Officer, and left. Nobody saw the SIC tactician slump against the wall on the outside of the door and slide down to the floor. Not one bot heard his nervous, ragged breathing as he tried to calm himself.

_They'll know everything._

_'They would have found out sooner or later'_

_**They'll **__know everything._

_'Yes, they will. Your brothers would have found out as well.'_

_They shouldn't be burdened with such knowledge._

_'They would be burdened if they found out from an outside source.'_

Prowl sighed and shook his helm, and held his helm in his hands. He took a few deep vents to try and calm his quickly beating spark. He checked his internal chronometer. It nearly was time for the meeting and let out of the morning shifts. He would hate to have Optimus come out of his office or some random mech come out and find him on the ground.

"Time to go." he said softly to himself as he rose to his pedes.

He had just enough time to fill out a file or two for this meeting. Maybe it would be easiest if he had everything set up for himself, a step-by-step speech of what he had to say.

OoOoOoO

Prowl inwardly flinched as he saw Bluestreak and Smokescreen take a seat at the far end of the table. What a time to start coming to these meetings.

Optimus was looking about the room. Ratchet and First Aid were both there to give Prowl's medical accounts, Jazz was there as he had seen Prowl first, Ironhide was there as he usually was. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, frontliners, were also there. To make matters better or worse, depending on one's view, both Ultra Magnus and Elita-1 were there by hologram form.

"This meeting will come to order." Optimus said aloud to hush those who may had been talking, and gain attention of those who may have been silent. "Now, we all know why we are here."

Nods went about the table. Good, one less thing to be explained. Out of the corner of Optimus' optic, he saw Prowl hesitantly look about and could hear the soft clicking of his digits as he fidgeted beneath the table.

"Ratchet and First Aid will start us." Optimus said.

"Yes, sir." Ratchet returned as he and his assistant rose and went to the viewing screen.

A data-pad was connected to a hologram projector. Prowl lowered his gaze as images of his injuries were projected for all to see. Prowl saw Smokescreen put a hand on Bluestreak's shoulder, and felt a reassuring pulse from the both of them. Prowl returned it quickly.

"I'm not one for small talk, so I'm gonna get right into this." Ratchet stated. "When we found Prowl, he was pretty beaten up."

"Beaten up?" Sideswipe blurted out. "Try _torn_ up."

"Sideswipe, you were not address, nor did we ask for any input from anyone." Optimus stated firmly. "Unless you are personally or indirectly addressed, you will hold your glossa. That goes for all of us."

Sideswipe lowered his helm a bit and felt his faceplates heat up. He felt both the reprimanding pulse from his twin, and his kick under the table. It took everything in him not to return it.

"Prowl was dangerously low on energon. As he burns energon unnaturally quickly, it put him in much more danger then usual." Ratchet continued. "His injuries were numerous. They included gouges to multiple places in his protoform, burn marks and melted parts of his protoform."

"Parts of his armour were melted to his protofrom. Most likely from the explosion he was originally caught in." First Aid added.

Ratchet gave a nod. "The worst assault were to his doorwings. They were so damaged that I was unable to save them, and they were removed for a time. A new pair was recently obtained, and restored. Prowl will remain in doorwing braces for quite awhile."

"Are there any questions?" Optimus asked as he looked about.

Ultra Magnus raised his hand a bit. Optimus nodded in his direction.

"How long was SIC Prowl confined to the med-bay?"

Ratchet thought for a moment. "He was confined to my medical bay for about a groon. He was then put on light duty for a few orns, and has just recently been sent back to complete active duty."

"I have a question." Elita stated.

Optimus turned to show that she could speak. "Go ahead."

"I see Prowl here, and physically, he looks fine. His protoform is a bit thin still, but I know that Ratchet is making him work on that." Elita stated.

Prowl felt his face plates heat up a bit. Only a femme could notice that. He remained still though, as he had not been addressed.

"We are indeed." Ratchet stated.

"Physically, I know he is being well taken care off. Emotionally, what are you doing for him?" Elita asked.

Prowl opened his moth to say something, but snapped it shut as he remembered Optimus' recent ordered.

"You are permitted to speak when ever you feel the need to." Optimus stated.

"There is...no need to worry about that." Prowl stated, wishing that he could disappear as he felt every optic peer at him.

"Permission to speak." Prowl heard a voice say from the other side of the table.

_Sit down._ Prowl begged inwardly, and even flared a slightly agitated and very worried pulse to his one brother.

"Granted." Optimus rumbled.

Smokescreen pushed his chair back and rose. "Thank you. I can understand why you are worried about that, ma'am, and am very glad that you brought this subject up."

Elita nodded, her holform fizzing a bit.

"You may not know me. I am Smokescreen, psychologists here at Iacon Headquarters." Smokescreen stated.

"I see. Have you spoken with Prowl about what has happened?" Elita-1 inquired.

Smokescreen shook his helm remorsefully. "I am sorry to say that I have not."

"As psychologist, one would think that you would want to speak with him as soon as possible." Ultra Magnus stated. "Pardon the interruption."

Optimus shook his helm to excuse the mech. He had really only been addressing his solders, as they could get a bit rambunctious at times.

"As a psychologist, I would like nothing more then to sit down with him and have him talk about this." Smokescreen said. "The only bot here who knows exactly, or even a little bit about what happened is Prowl himself."

"Then why have you not?" Elita asked.

"Like I said, my psychologist side wishes to speak with him. As his brother, I'm a bit more hesitant." Smokescreen said.

Elita made a noise of understanding. "I can see your concerns."

Smokescreen nodded. "With that unique mix, one of his own brothers the only psychologist on base, I don't believe Prowl would really feel comfortable telling me what happened."

"Thank you, Smokescreen. You have shed some more light on this subject." Elita stated.

Smokescreen nodded as he sat back down. He sent a pulse to his brother of comfort. One that whispered 'It's all right'.

Ratchet and First Aid took their seats. Optimus took a heavy vent. There was really nothing left but for Prowl to explain what _had_ happened.

"Prowl?" he asked in a gentle, easy voice.

"Yes, sir." Prowl answered, knowing good and well what he had to do.

: You don't have to do this : Optimus commed privately. : The offer still stands to confide in a bot you feel comfortable with :

: It is too late for that : Prowl returned as he picked up his single data-pad and rose to his pedes.

Optimus closed the link as Prowl onlined his pad and took his place before all of the mechs. Despite his valiant attempts to look normal and unfazed, it was blatantly obvious how nervous he was. He was unable to show his emotion with his doorwings, but the hollow look in his blue optics and the way he shifted the data-pad between his clammy hands showed just how anxious he was.

"I..." Prowl started. He swallowed, trying to wetten his mouth that had suddenly gone dry. "I was on a mission with Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, First Aid, and Ironhide."

So far, so good.

"We were looking for the mech who had been causing much trouble through the Autobot bases. He even shot my own brother, Bluestreak, in the doorwing just orns before we disembarked."

This was easy, so far. He was just explaining what had happened _before_ he had been captured.

"We were able to stop at one Neutral village, but were rejected by another." Prowl continued. "After traveling for about 3 or 4 orns, we became engaged in battle near crystal formations. We-"

"Pardon the interruption." Ultra Magnus spoke up. "But you speak of crystal structures? Where were you located."

Prowl flounded for a moment. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, trying to process what to say. He had not worked questions into his speech-of sorts.

Optimus quickly hooked a map up to the holoform projector, and signaled for Ironhide to come forward. Said Weapons Specialist quickly came up and easily pointed out where they had been. It seemed very close to Kaon, on the map anyways.

: Thank you : Prowl commed the red mech as he retook his seat.

Ironhide just shrugged.

"You may continue when you are ready." Optimus said.

Prowl straighten up a a bit. The sooner this was over with the better.

"We were engaged with only one mech. He goes by the designation of Whiplash. He captured me and I sustained some damage, described earlier. He had been sent to interrogate and the kill me. He never got to either of them."

"Because you escaped." Sideswipe stated, and the ducked his head as he discovered he had spoken out of turn again.

"I didn't though." Prowl stated, trying to control his breathing and spark that both wanted to pick up the pace. "I didn't escape. He-he let me go."

"He let you go?" Optimus repeated the quote in question form.

"He wanted-No. He _wants_ to hunt me down. He is still out there, sir. He most likely knows that I am back here." Prowl stated.

"Dirty rotten 'Con." Ironhide muttered.

"You're wrong." Prowl stated, trying harder to breathe normal. "He's not a Decepticon. He-he works for another."

"Another? A bounty hunter, perhaps?" Ultra Magnus asked.

Prowl quickly shook his head, that was quickly starting to become covered in condensation. He held his data-pad tighter, making a large crack resound through the room. His slippery hands didn't even move from their position as it slipped from his hands and hit the floor. The glass shattered about his pedes, but he didn't even move a digit.

"He works for another." Prowl repeated, visibly panting now. "Science and logic. He bore an atom for an insignia. There is a third party out there. Against both sides."

"Prowl, sit down." Optimus gently ordered.

The red and blue mech rose as the black and white made no movement. He carefully moved about the glass and went to Prowl's side. He lay a hand on the Datsun's shoulder, and was rather startled at the sharp flinch as Prowl seemed to snap from his stupor.

"It's all right." Optimus said, lowly enough for only Prowl to hear. "Just take a seat and calm down."

Prowl swallowed and nodded. He seemed a bit startled to see broken glass on the floor, but walked around it to his seat. Jazz, who was sitting on his opposite side, heard him vent out slowly.

Prowl felt both Bluestreak and Smokescreen send reassuring and comforting pulses to him again. He didn't trust himself to return them, for fear that he might only send them fear.

"Is everything all right?" Elita-1 asked.

"Fine." Optimus returned.

"Are questions allowed?" Ultra Magnus asked. "His explanation was not very informational, but I would not want to cause him further distress."

"It's fine." Prowl said, inwardly berating himself for appearing so weak.

"If any questions are deemed unreasonable or out of order or too personal by anyone here, they may intervene." Optimus stated.

"For how long was Prowl in custody of this Whiplash?" Ultra Magnus asked.

Prowl racked his processor, trying to find out. "I'm not entirely certain. My chronometer was damaged."

"You had no sense of time?" Ultra questioned.

Prowl shook his helm. None.

"He was missing for a good three orns, from what we know." Ratchet answered for him.

"Do you have any idea of who this mechs leader might be, or is he his own?" Ultra asked next.

"He does not work for himself." Prowl stated, trying to remain in control of himself. "I have no idea of who might be his leader. I have thought about it for joors at a time, trying to figure it out."

"Do we know what he looks like?" Elita asked.

Prowl nodded. He took a data-pad out of his subspace, and hesitated. He could barely speak about this mech in depth, could he really look at him? The mere thought of Whiplash made Prowl want to go into hysterics.

"Ah'll do it." Jazz whispered to him. "Ya don' hav'ta look."

Prowl nodded a bit as Jazz took the pad from his hands. He ducked his helm and even shuttered his optics as he heard the hum of the projector. He remained unmoving until he heard Jazz take a seat next to him and whisper an 'All clear' into his audio.

Prowl looked up, looking a bit sheepish to those that knew him well. Jazz nudged him a bit beneath the table. Prowl's lip compartments twitched a bit at the edges in a half-sparked smile.

"I have one last question." Ultra Magnus stated. "It may seem a bit...personal, but I feel it needs to be asked."

"Be sure to word it very carefully." Optimus rumbled his warning.

Ultra Magnus gave a single nod. "Prowl did Whiplash... try anything on you?"

Prowl took a quick intake, his spark racing. Jazz's visor flashed in anger. Did this mech really just ask before all these bots if Prowl had _interfaced_ or _merged_ with this Un-Con?"

"Ah object." Jazz borderline shouted as he pounded his fist table and jumped up.

"You have no right to ask such a thing!" Smokescreen stated as he too rose.

"That is too much." Bluestreak added as he rose beside his brother.

Others began to rise and shout as Prowl seemed to freeze.

"Enough." Optimus called above the ruckus. "Everyone, take your seats. Ultra, I expected better from you."

"I didn't mean it in that way." Ultra quickly said. "I have had solders myself captured by the enemy and returned. It was very rare that they were not raped."

Someone pounded on the table again.

"Mute it." Jazz growled.

"You're lucky you're not really here." Smokescreen stated threateningly as Bluestreak nodded beside him, too angry for words.

Optimus rose his hand for silence. "This has gone on long enough. Questions or no questions, this meeting as adjourned. Ultra, I will be calling you later this evening."

"Yes, sir." Ultra Magnus replied before fizzing out.

Elita-1 followed suit, after telling Optimus that she would be waiting for a comm. call from him as well. Others rose to leave, mumbling in distaste as they left. Optimus rose as well, as he had calls to make. He stopped after he had risen, though.

"Prowl, I am very sorry for what happened. It was never supposed to go that way, and I know this meeting was too soon for you."

Prowl shook his head and tried to speak, but found his vocalizer had locked up. Optimus lay a hand on his shoulder before leaving. Smokescreen and Bluesteak replaced their CO, and stood next to the still seat Jazz who was patting Prowl on the back.

"Are you all right?" Smokescreen asked.

Prowl nodded. "I'm fine."

"What a jerk!" Bluestreak explained. "How could he ask you something like that? I mean really- really! It's just- I mean- He should have no right to even _think_ about asking that! To anyone!"

"Now you find your glossa." Jazz smirked. "Kinda."

"Prowl..." Smokescreen asked as he pulled Optimus' vacated seat up a bit and sat down in it. He lay a hand on his brother's lap. "Did...did he try anything?"

Prowl started up with a scowl. "Nothing happened."

Smokescreen saw Jazz shake his helm. That white mech would be questioned soon, away from Prowl, though.

"I didn't ask you if anything _happened_, I asked you if he _tried_ anything." Smokescreen stated.

Silence. Smokescreen lowered his helm.

"He did try someth-"

"Nothing happened, Smokescreen." Prowl said sharply as he rose to his pedes.

"Nothing may have happened, but if he tried something it can still hurt as if he did...do something." Smokescreen said.

Prowl's scowl merely grew deeper. "I am fine. Nothing happened. There is no need to continue this discussion, Smoescreen."

"Does saying those phrases again and again make you believe it any more? Are you trying to convince me or yourself, because you are doing a poor job of either." Smokescreen said as he rose to his own pedes.

Prowl clenched his fists. Jazz rose as it looked like he very well was going to strike his brother. Instead of lashing out, though, he turned on his heels and left. Smokescreen vented a bit as the door slid shut.

"You can wait a second, Jazz." Smokescreen stated as the mech tried to leave.

"Wha' did Ah do?" Jazz asked.

"You know something." Smokescreen said. "You know if something happened."

Smokescreen instantly picked up the uneasy shift.

"It's not mah place ta say." Jazz said after a pause.

"So you do know something."

"Ya should really wait fer Prowl ta tell ya." Jazz stated.

"SIt. Now." Smokescreen ordered harshly.

Jazz sat down as if he had been a turbo-dog. Bluestreak sat down too, but remained silent.

"Smoke, Prowl's gonna be ticked if he finds out ya found out from meh." Jazz said.

"I've had alot of patients, Jazz." Smokescreen stated. "No two stories are ever alike, but each case has one thing in common. Somebot was hurt, sombot is hurting, somebot needs help."

"Yeah. Yer point?" Jazz asked.

"Prowl is hurting. It's as plain as your visor." Smokescreen continued. "He won't talk to me or Bluestreak, being his brothers he doesn't want to hurt us with the information."

"Ah know."

"He talked with you , though."

"More like he broke down and started blutin; things out in a crazed, spooked state."

"He talked, though." Smokescreen said firmly. "Correct?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to have to use you." Smokescreen stated.

"What?" Jazz exclaimed.

"If Prowl tells you something, you are to tell me. I will tell Bluestreak if I deem it for for him to hear." he added before Bluestreak could interject and ramble.

"Tha's not fair to any of us."

"Damn it, Jazz!" Smokescreen exclaimed as he pounded his fist on the table. "Do you know how many patients I've had commit suicide because of something they kept hidden? Don't even count the hidden stuff, do you know how many bots I've counseled commit suicide from the _hurt?_"

Jazz shook his helm.

"Too many. One would be too many, and let me tell ya, it's been more then one." Smokescreen vented. "And you'd be surprised how often it was the quiet ones. The ones that seemed just fine just up and jumped out a window, or drank something they shouldn't have."

Jazz felt his insides twist at the sickening thought of Prowl pulling something like that. To walk into his office and find the mech in his own energon, or have him drop offline just walking up the halls.

Bluestreak looked like he waned to be sick. "Prowl wouldn't do that though!" he exclaimed with a tremor in his voice. "Right?"

Smokescreen slumped in his chair and shook his helm. "I wish I could promise you that. I wish I could."

Bluestreak's wings hung low, mimicking his brother's. Jazz slowly pushed back his chair and rose to his pedes, having every intention of going to check on Prowl. Make sure he was okay...and still alive.

"Don't bother." Smokescreen stopped the white mech. "I'll do it."

Jazz just nodded. Smokescreen should, as his brother. He stepped aside and let the red, blue, and white pass. "Blue..."

"I'll wait for you in our room." Bluestreak promised as he too got up from his seat.

Slowly, each mech left the meeting room. The door slid closed behind them, and the light automatically shut off.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl closed his optics and put a hand to the wall. He closed his optics and tried to clear his mind. He tried to focus only on the warm liquid covering his frame and the pattering of the droplets in rapid succession on the tiled floor.

_"Scream for me."_

Prowl shook his helm as a ghost pressure pressed his bare chest. He could practically feel Whiplash's heat and spark intertwine with his own.

Prowl's optics snapped open as he quickly grabbed a stiff wire brush, the kind used to get dried and crusted dirt off of ones frame, and began to scrub at his chassis. He scrubbed harder and harder.

_"Open up."_

_No._

Prowl scrubbed harder, creating a thick lather of the white subs that was quickly turning blue with energon.

_"A carrier."_

_No!_

Prowl scrubbed harder. It hurt, it stung, it pierced his frame, but he still didn't feel _clean_. He couldn't scrub away the feeling of intertwining sparks and Whiplash's ghost frame on his.

_'Scrub harder'_

_That is one of the first things you have said that I want to listen to._

Prowl scrubbed until he could feel the wire brush wear down and begin to buckle under the pressure. Energon flowed down Prowl's chassis and stomach plating as he continued.

"Stop it." a voice said softly, making Prowl start but not stop scrubbing.

"You're hurting yourself."

Prowl tried to turn away as Smokescreen went to take the brush from him. Part of the reason was that he wanted to keep the brush, but the other reason was that his tank was churning so badly that he didn't want to purge on his brother.

A servo slid under his bleeding chassis as he doubled over and retched.

"Easy, easy." Smokescrean murmured to him. "Just let it out."

Prowl choked again and purged a bluish-green substance onto the tile. It was quickly washed away be the still running water.

Smokescreen continued to support his older brother even after the purging stopped. His back was shuddering and heaving as he started to sob. It was eerily quiet, his keens. Smokescreen shut off the water and started to lead him from the wash racks.

"Wait." Prowl choked out as he continued to not make eye contact with his brother.

"What's wrong?" Smokescreen asked without so much as a hint of judgement in his voice.

"I-I don't have...my armour on." Prowl replied as he cast a quick glance over the armour in the corner of the wash racks.

Smokesceen nodded. It only made sense that Prowl would be wary of being in his exposed protoform. He had been found borderline naked. Smokescreen gave Prowl some space and turned around as Prowl slid back into his armour. Of course, Prowl wasn't naked now, but that didn't matter.

"Okay." Prowl said a bit sheepishly as he attached the last piece of armour to his frame.

He had stopped crying while dressing, and one couldn't tell that he had been if one had just walked in one him now. He barely had any coolant stains on his faceplates, and his intakes had little to know signs of hitching.

"Sit down." Smokescreen ordered gently as he motioned to the berth.

Prowl complied. Smokescreen took a cube of energon out of Prowl's not-so-hidden stash, not that he was trying to hide it. He took a regular grade for himself as well, just so that Prowl wouldn't feel awkward drinking alone.

"Here, you're gonna need it." Smokescreen stated as he handed the electric, lightning flavoured energon to his older brother.

"Thank you." Prowl replied as he kep his helm lowered.

"Prowl." Smokescreen started as he pulled the rolling chair away from the small desk in the corner of the room. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Prowl just shook his helm, still looking at the ground. "I shouldn't speak of this with you."

"If nothing happened, though, then what's the problem with talking about it?" Smokescreen asked.

"Because if it had been half a klik more, nothing _wouldn't_ have happened." Prowl stated.

"He started, but never finished." Smokescreen stated more then asked, to hide the confusion in his voice.

"It was...the beginning stages of a-a..." Prowl vented out and shook his helm.

"Spark merge." Smokescreen finished.

Prowl nodded.

"I'm not finishing it for you." Smokescreen stated. "You have to say it yourself."

"Say what?"

"That you were in the beginning stages of..." Smokescreen let gis voice trail of in such a way that Prowl knew he was supposed to finish it.

He shook his helm again.

"You have to say it."

"Why? Why do I _have _to say it."

"To accept it."

"And what if I don't want to accept it?" Prowl asked, snapping his helm up to look firmly at his brother.

Smokescreen took a sip from his cube, completely unfazed. He set down the cube. "Then you are living a lie."

"I don't _want_ to accept it." Prowl stated firmly.

Smokescreen vented softly and sat still in deep thought. After a second he went to pick up his cube of energon again, but instead knocked it to the floor. The action was completely purposeful, and could not have been described any other way.

"What did you do that for?" Prowl asked as the sticky liquid started to spread to their pedes.

"Do what?" Smokescreen asked with a cock of his helm.

"You deliberately knocked your cube of energon over." Prowl stated.

"No, I didn't." Smokescreen continued.

Prowl was a bit taken back. The look on Smokescreen's face stated very clearly that he did know what he did. It was completely illogical to deny it! He both looked guilty, and the evidence was right there.

As if reading his mind, Smokescreen leaned forward and placed a hand on Prowl's lap.

"You're doing the same thing, Prowl. You act 'guilty', in a way, and I can see the evidence. If nothing had happened, you would not be scrubbing yourself raw in the wash racks, nor would you become physically sick from the mere thought of what had and could have happened."

Prowl vented.

"I knocked over the cube. I said it and accept it. And you were in the beginning stages of..."

"A-a spark..."Prowl shook his helm again. "I _can't_."

"You _can_ and _will_." Smokescreen said. "We'll start again. I knocked over the cube of energon. You were in the beginning stages of..."

"A spark merge." Prowl barely mumbled.

"I don't believe you." Smokescreen said as he sat back in his seat.

"I was in the begining stages of a spark merge!" Prowl all but shouted.

Smokescreen vented and gave his brother a melancholy kind of smile. He rose and took a seat on the edge of the berth next to his brother as his intakes started to hitch again and the black and white helm bent low to hide the coolant he couldn't stop. A red and blue servo wrapped around his back.

"Now, I believe you."

* * *

Author's Notes- I am terribly sorry for the delay. Prowl opens with his brother! A bit, anyways. 

Not really much to say. Feel free to review and ask questions/criticize!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

"Optimus Prime, sir." Jazz saluted.

"At ease, Jazz." Optimus returned. "You are the one that requested to see me."

"An' Ah thank ya' for seein' meh."Jazz stated as he took a seat, after being offered, of course.

"Jazz, I must ask you, why have you requested to see me? The way you are making it out to be makes me believe that it is urgent." Optimus said.

"It is." Jazz assured the larger mech. "Ah request a mission."

"Which one?" Optimus asked as he started to look through data-pads. "Most missions as of late don't involve fighting, but foraging."

"None of those." Jazz replied. "Ah wanna go after this Whiplash fella."

Optimus vented as he replaced the data-pads. "I am afraid that I cannot grant that request."

"Why not?" Jazz asked.

"There are many reasons, Jazz. The top ones being we have no lead as to where this character may be and he is extremely dangerous." Optimus stated.

"Ah don' care bot danger, an' Ah can track 'im down." Jazz said firmly.

"Jazz, this mech single handedly took out my top sniper, two of my best frontliners, my SIC, my Weapons Specialist, one of my medics and countless other bots. Many have died because of this single mech." Optimus returned.

"All the more reason ta get 'im." Jazz stated.

Optimus vented again and shook his helm. "There's more to it then that, Jazz."

"What else can there be?" Jazz asked, a bit of anger masked in his voice.

"Jazz, I know that you have noticed the lack of Decepticon activity, correct?" Optimus stated.

"Yes'sir." Jazz replied. "They jus' got real quiet all of a sudden. Must be plannin' something big."

"Or nothing at all."

"Wha'?"

"Jazz, I am starting to firmly believe that this war is going to end soon." Optimus said.

"The 'Cons planin' on surenderin' any time soon?" Jazz asked in mockery, but also in hope.

"Or I will call a truce, whichever happens first." Optimus sighed heavily. "The Decepticons are most likely doing the same as us. Reserving energy, foraging, scavenging."

"It ain' tha' bad." Jazz stated. "So a set rations been set out. We'll figure somethin' out."

Optimus again shook his helm. "Jazz, how old is Bumblebee?"

"Bumblebee? Where the pit tha' come from?"

"Answer the question."

Jazz shrugged. "Probably close ta...1400 vorns or so?" Jazz asked.

"Almost 15." Optimus confirmed. "Jazz, how tall were you when you were his age?"

Jazz shrugged again. This topic was getting very out of hand. "Probably a bit taller then he was. But he's a minibot. He's supposed ta' be a bit on ta small side."

"You are wrong on both account." Optimus stated. "I know for a fact that you were most likely much taller then he is now, weren't you?"

"Ah guess, but what's all this gotta do-"

"And Bumblebee is not a minibot."

"Wha'?"Jazz blanked. How the frag could that mini mech _not_ be a minibot?

"Bumblebee is a regular mech, like you or me." Optimus stated. "Now back to our original subject."

"Thank ya'."

Optimus ignored the last comment. "As I said, the Decepticons are looking for energon, same as us. This war is no longer over right or wrong, over complete monarchy and dictatorship or a free planet. This war is now to simply survive. And right now, the Decepticons have the upper hand."

"Wha's all this gotta do with Whiplash an' Bumblebee?" Jazz asked.

"Everything." Optimus said. "We do not have enough energon so that a youngling can get the proper nutrition and grow properly, nor do we have enough energon to sed a single mech out on a wild glitch-goose chase."

Jazz shifted a bit in his seat. "So...Bee ain't a minibot?"

Optimus shook his helm, thankful that Jazz had dropped the subject of Whiplash. "He is not. His growth is stunted from malnutrition, and Ratchet doubts that he will ever grow to what his full height should have been."

"Poor kid." Jazz said, his spark reaching out to the youngling.

Optimus gave a single nod of his helm. "I am sorry that I cannot grant your request."

"Hmm?"

"Your request to go after Whiplash." Optimus reminded.

"Oh, yeah, tha'...tha's okay. We'll get 'im."Jazz stated as he rose. "Thank ya' for seein' meh, sir."

With that, Jazz saluted and left after being dismissed. He went to the Rec. room, where a bunch of mechs were gathered despite the fact that it was the middle of the day. Bumblebee was there as well, joking and laughing with a few others.

Jazz went and got a cube of measured energon, as he hadn't fueled up yet. Oddly, though, the cube didn't have any flavor. Yes, it was a weak grade, barely able to call it low grade, but it should have had at least a little taste.

All Jazz could think of, and hear, was Bumblebee in the background. Nothing seemed to bother him, nothing seemed to hurt him. He had been injured many times, he had been in battle since he could shoot a gun straight. He had never complained, though. Not even once. He was all ways there to cheer up a sick or injured friend, and never asked anything in return.

"Hey, Bee?" Jazz asked, interrupting whatever he had been saying before. "How...uh, how ya' doin'?"

"Just fine, Jazz." Bumblebee stated with a confused cock of his helm. "We see each other every day. Well, almost."

"Yeah, but Ah haven't really gotten' ta talk with ya' in awhile." Jazz replied.

"Well, you've been busy with Prowl and stuff. By the way, how is Prowl?" Bumblebee asked, his optics widening a bit. "Is he doing okay?"

"I've gotta go, Bee." Wheeljack stated as he rose quickly, as he had been talking with Bee before. "Remember that we go scouting later today."

"Okay, got it." Bee promised as he turned back to Jazz to wait for his answer.

Jazz smiled a bit. "He's doin' jus' fine, dontch'ya worry."

Bumblebee nodded. He noticed Jazz's cube a moment, but quickly turned away to make it look as if he had not. He was hungry, but it wasn't that bad. No more that usually. He hated it, though, when Ironhide dragged him to the med-bay when he was doubled over with cramps since his empty tank was seizing up. That had happened a few times, and drove him crazy.

Bumblebee turned red as his tank suddenly grinded. He chuckled. "Sorry."

Jazz smirked to cover the frown. He took one more quick sip of his cube before handing it over to Bumblebee.

"What?" Bumblebee asked in surprise as he tried to push it back. "It's yours, you need it. I all ready had mine for today."

"Ah'm not vet hungry." Jazz stated. "An Ah don' wanna waste this. Are ya sure ya don' want it?"

Bumblebee hesitated. Jazz could see the hunger in his optics. "Are you really not going to drink it?" Bumblebee asked, sounding as if he was shocked to hear that someone _wasn't_ hungry.

Jazz shook his helm. "It's all yours, if ya' wan' it."

"Well..." Bumblebee hesitated again. Jazz shoved the cube into his hands. "Thanks."

"No problem." Jazz stated.

He waited a bit to watch the youngling drink it. The youngling tried not to, but ended up chugging it down rather quickly. He could see the hunger grow in his big, round optics as he continued to drink it. He sighed when it was gone, and wiped his face a bit.

"Thanks." he smiled bashfully.

Jazz chuckled and pat his back a bit. "Ah'm gonna get goin' now."

"Okay." Bumblebee said as he went to recycle the cube.

Jazz left the Rec. room to go to his own berthroom. He had a cube of high grade left in his closet that was practically screaming to him.

OoOoOoOoO

Ironhide trudged back to his berthroom. Well, his _and_ Bumblebee's berthroom. They'd been sharing ever since Bumblebee had been able to recharge in a regular berth. He slid open the door and found the room dark. No surprise there.

What was surprising was the yellow frame curled up on the other recharge berth. He was about to quickly shut the lights back off, but the frame's intakes hitched a few times.

"Bumblebee?" Ironhide asked as he crossed the room.

Bumblebee, who was facing away from him, hurriedly shuttered his optics. He heard Ironhide sit down on the edge of his berth, and the berth groan with protest.

"Bee?" Ironhide repeated. "Ya know ya suck ate fakin' recharge, right?"

Bumblebee huffed a bit. "I'm trying to charge."

"How long have you been in here?" Ironhide asked, rolling the youngling over himself.

Bumblebee would have smirked at the contact if it hadn't wrenched his tank. He hid a flinch, but not well.

"A joor." Bumblebee admited, his blue optics downcast.

"Are ya sick?" Ironhide asked as he lay a large hand on the smaller mech's forehelm.

"I'm not sick." Bumblebee huffed as he pushed off Ironhide's hand.

"Are you hurtin' again?" Ironhide asked, moving to touch Bumblebee's stomach plating.

The youngling sucked air in as the large hand rested on his stomach area. Ironhide vented out in a sigh.

"Come on." Ironhide stated, used to this all-to-often routine.

"I just need sme recharge." Bumblebee mumbled as he flipped back over onto his side.

The youngling yelped as he was suddenly lifted into the air by a pair of the strongest servos he knew.

"Put me down!"

Ironhide hummed in the negative. "I'm takin' you to Ratchet. Now just wrap your servos 'round my neck-yeah, like that."

Bumblebee also rested his helm on the red shoulder as Ironhide easily carried the too light youngling towards the med-bay. His spark tightened every time Bee tensed in pain. The yellow bot remained unnervengly silent the entire trek.

The med-bay was easily reached. Ratchet sighed as he saw Ironhide and Bumblebee, again.

"Get him into a berth." Ratchet ordered. "I'll be there in a breem."

Ironhide gave a curt nod as he went to the nearest, white padded medical berth and lay Bumblebee down. The youngling curled up on his side, and Ironhide was quick to notice the single streaks of coolant trailing from his optics.

"Hold on, Bee. Ratch'll be just a klik." Ironhide stated.

Bumblebee said nothing, merely shuttered his optics. Ironhide gave him a little shake, earning him a whimper that made him stop instantly.

"Bee? Come on, now. Wake up. Bee?"

Ratchet seemed to materialize beside the Weapons Specialist. A yellow cube of medical grade was in his hands as he propped up the small mech in one servo, and planted the corner of the cube in Bee's mouth with his other.

The liquid ran in and dribbled out of a corner of his mouth, leaving a darker, sunflower yellow on his bright yellow face. Ratchet tried once more, pouring it in slower. He was met with the same results. He set both the cube and the youngling down.

"Ya gotta give it to him!" Ironhide stated as he went for the cube himself.

Ratchet was both faster and a good deal closer then Ironhide was, and snatched the cube away before the red mech could get it.

"I will. Just give me a klik." Ratchet said sharply.

He pulled a white pipe out of a drawer, similar if not exactly like a PVC pipe. He also pulled out a smaller, more flimsy tube. Both were set next to Bumblebee.

Out of the same drawer, Ratchet pulled out a small bottle and a syringe. The needle of the empty syringe was jabbed into the bottle, and a silvery liquid was drawn up. Ratchet flicked it a few times, removing any and all air in it.

"Hold Bumblebee still." Ratchet ordered.

Ironhide merely nodded as he gathered up the youngling in his servos, Bumblebee laying limp as he did hesitated.

"You sure you want to _hold_ him? You'll be in that position for a few joors." Ratchet stated.

"Jus' do it, medic." Ironhide grumbled.

Ratchet quickly slid the needle into one of Bumblebee's wrist cables. He tensed a moment, but fell even more limp the next moment.

"Now. hold him as still as you can. This'll be a bit...uncomfortable, for him." Ratchet said as he picked up the PVC pipe.

"What are you gonna do?" Ironhide asked.

"I'm going to give him a direct feeding line." Ratchet answered as he opened Bee's mouth as wide as he could. "Hold still, Bee."

"Why don't you jus' give him an I.V?" Ironhide questioned wearily.

"I could, but it won't stop the cramps." Ratchet replied. "He'll feel better with this, I promise."

"Sure don' look like it." Ironhide groused.

Ratchet huffed a bit as he moved Bumblebee into the right position so that he could slide the tube down his throat _and_ still let Ironhide hold him. At least the PVC pipe was pretty flexible.

Ironhide flinched a bit at the gagging noise Bee instinctively made a gagging noise as the tube was pushed down.

"Easy." Ratchet said gently as he continued. "There, see? That's it. Now, I'll just push this smaller one into the larger one...like so. And attach it to this...and there."

Ratchet took a step back to check his work. Everything checked out.

"Don't move him." Ratchet ordered.

"I won't." Ironhide assured him in a 'duh' voice.

Bumblebee groggily looked up at Ironhide before shuttering his optics again with a sigh. The drugs Ratchet had given him not only relaxed him, but were making him sleepy as well. His vents soon regulated as he fell into a sound recharge in his guardians servos.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl sighed a bit as he let his servo fall from his comm. link. Now he had to comm. Wheeljack and tell him that he and Bumblebee were not going energon scouting, and then find two more bits to take their place.

: Prowl to Wheeljack. Please report to my office immediately :

: Wheeljack here. Message heard and understood. Over and out :

Prowl wasted no time in getting out a few data-pads out as he waited for the young inventor. He had to find out who could go scouting. Certainly not Ironhide, as he was most likely with Bumblebee. The Twins were out of the question. Why? They were the Twins. Simply put.

Prowl sniffed once as a loud rap sounded at his door. He pressed a button on his desk, and the door unlocked.

"Hey, Prowl. You wanted to see- holy Primus!" Wheeljack cursed as he wrapped his servos about his chassis. "It's freezing in here!"

Prowl refrained from sniffling as he twitched his doorwings in irritation. "Thank you for noticing. I have called you here becaus-"

"You want me to fix the heat, I got ya." Wheeljack said merrily as his audio fins flashed brightly.

"You will do no such thing." Prowl said firmly, making Wheeljack take a few cautious steps _away_ from the thermostat. "I have shut off the heat on my own accord."

Wheeljack looked at him oddly. "Why?"

"To reserve energon." Prowl answered. "The heat is run by a machine grade energon, as you know. I have also shut the heat off in my room, and am not using my in-built heater for the same reasons."

"You're gonna make yourself sick, doing that." Wheeljack stated. "Why did you call me down here, if I didn;t have to do with this place being colder then Megatron's spark?"

"You will not be going on an energon scouting with Bumblebee." Prowl said simply.

"Why not? Bee had his spark set on going scouting." Wheeljack protested.

Prowl raised a hand for silence. "Bumblebee is in the infirmary again. He is on a feeding tube for now."

"Really? Poor kid."

Prowl gave a single nod of his helm. "I am finding others to take your place."

"All right." Wheeljack said, a bit downcast.

"You are dismissed." Prowl stated.

"Okay." Wheeljack said as hes started to leave the office. "Keep warm!"

Prowl said nothing until the door closed. "Jerk."

OoOoOoOoO

Jazz whistled a bit as he headed towards the Rec. room. It kept his processor off the gnawing ache in his belly. He was going to get his ration, anyways, so he wouldn't be that hungry for long.

He froze at the doorway. It was crowded, no surprise there. What _was_ surprising was the black and white Datsun in the corner of the room, practically huddled next to the radiator.

"Prowler? What ya doin' in 'ere?" Jazz asked as he grabbed his cube and leaned against the wall.

"It's my break time, is it not?" Prowl returned.

"Since when do _you_ take breaks? Voluntarily, tha' is." Jazz asked with a smirk.

"Mute it." Prowl muttered as he took a long sip from his cube.

Jazz did the same. He focused mainly on refueling for a few moments until he noticed a distinct sag of doorwings beside him. Prowl coughed a few times into a closed fist before sighing as a red minibot came near.

"Wha's wrong?" Jazz asked.

"Not this again." Prowl mumbled to himself.

"Look who showed up again!" Cliffjumper sneered. "Using our energon dispenser, too. Don't you have your own?"

Prowl vented. Just how many times was he going to have to explain to this mech that his energon dispenser was empty? He had had Ratchet empty the high energy energon out and make it into multiple cubes of the low grade everyone was drinking now. His dispenser had been empty since the very beginning of the ration, a vorn or so ago. He had had multiple crashes from the lack of the energon he needed. But nobody needed to know about that last part.

"That's a load of slag." Cliffjumper spat. "You're just holding out for yourself!"

"Excuse me?" Prowl asked, trying to remain calm.

"You heard me. It's a load of slag." Cliffjumper repeated. "Everyone here knows that you're saving your energon for yourself."

"My dispenser is empty." Prowl stated.

Cliffjumper took four steps, two to a normal sized bot, over to the table containing empty cubes and the two dispensers. He knocked on Prowl's hard. A half-hollow sound came from it.

"I can hear the liquid in it." Cliffjumper stated harshly. "Like I said, you're holding out."

"Hold this for me." Prowl said as he pushed his cube into Jazz's hand. He picked up an empty cube from the table. "So, what you are saying, Cliffjumper, is that I should be able to get energon from this dispenser."

"Stop playing dumb with me." Cliffjumper growled.

"All I need is to type in the code." Prowl stated as he did so. "And push down this lever."

The lever was pushed down, and a whirring noise came from deep in the machine. Not so much as a drop of electric blue energon came from the machine.

"Cliffjumper, the machine is empty. The liquid you are hearing is the oil used to run it." Prowl explained. "This machine has been-"

"You lying son of a Pylon!" Cluffjumper shouted, gaining more attention from the room.

Prowl lifted a hand to stop Jazz who had an angered look on his face, and his free hand in a fist.

"Cliffjumper, would you trust Jazz if he typed in the code?" Prowl asked calmly.

"Frag, no." Cliffjumper huffed with crossed servos. "He's with you. He probably gets energon from you himself."

"Tha's it." Jazz growled.

"Wait." Prowl said under his breath. "Cliffjumper, would you trust Optimus Prime if he typed in the code?"

Cliffjumper hesitated before shaking his helm. "He's with you too."

"Would you believe me if I could _prove_ that this dispenser was empty?" Prowl asked.

"How the frag are you going to prove yourself? Prove that you're lieing? Yeah, prove that." Cliffjumper sneered and scorned. "Go on, prove it you glitch. Go-"

Cliffjumper and every bot in the Rec. room froze as the dispenser on dispute was shoved to the ground with ferocity they had never seen outside the battle field. The boom the metal dispenser made rang louder then Ironhide's canons and echoed in their audios. Prowl himself was frozen as his chest heaved in an angered pant. Cliffjumper looked at his pedes as oil pooled about them.

"Prowl." a sharp voice broke the stunned silence in the room as the unmistakable voice of the leader filled the room.

Prowl stopped venting and his optics widened. He turned around to face his Commanding Officer.

"Prowl-"Opimus started. He stopped as he tried to find words to say. "You know where to go."

"Yes, sir." Prowl said, his voice sounding small and weak.

Mirage and Powerglide came out of the crowd as Optimus pinged their HUDs. Prowl lowered his helm as he was led away.

"Sir, Ah think you're makin' a big mistake." Jazz said after the crowd had dispersed some.

"I will get to the bottom of this." Optimus returned.

"Ah saw wha' happened, though." Jazz stated. "It wasn' Prowler's fault."

"I was in the room when he broke the dispenser." Optimus said. "He did that out of his own free will. He was not forced to do so."

"He was bein' edged on by Cliff." Jazz said, his visor darkening.

"Jazz, I will speak to both Prowl and Cliffjumper in turn." Optimus assured the saboteur. "Right now, this mess needs to be cleaned up and I need a few moments to keep my temper under control."

Jazz vented, a bit in irritation, and left his CO to help clean up the mess.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Prowl moved, bringing his pedes up to his chassis. He wrapped his servos around them. How could he have been so foolish? Where in his processor had _breaking_ the energon dispenser been a good idea?

Prowl coughed a bit as he let his forehelm hit his knee caps a few times, making resounding little clinks in the quiet room. He looked about. He looked hard at the electric bars as they hummed softly. A quiet little tune that promised a shock if touched. He knew the amps and volts weren't enough to kill him, but they could send him into stasis lock.

He was trapped. As trapped as he had been in Whiplash's clutches. He was being watched by security cameras, just as Whiplash had watched him.

_Calm down._ Prowl said to himself. _He's not here._

_'But he's still out there.'_

_Shut the frag up._

_'It's the truth.'_

_The truth it may be, but I do not care. So there._

The voice laughed. How the frag did it do that? _'You poor, frightened, stupid mech.'_

_How do I shut you up?_

_'By listening.'_

_And if I chose to ignore you?_

_'You cannot ignore me. I am you. You cannot ignore yourself.'_

_I can do things that could surprise even you, er-myself._

Another laugh_ 'You cannot ignore what you know. Once you know it, you cannot unknow it.'_

_But what I don't know can't hurt me._

_'Do you really believe that?'_

_Yes._

_'In your logical self, do you believe that?'_

_No._

_'That is what I thought.'_

_Don't you mean, that is what __**I**__ thought?_

_'You learn quickly.'_

"Prowl."

Prowl started a bit as he turned to see his Commanding Officer on the other side of the bars. Optimus shut off the power to the bars for a moment with an energy disruptor he held in his hand, and went into the cell. The bars closed up behind. Panic filled Prowl once again at those purplish blue energy bars, blocking him off from the outside world.

"Sir." Prowl said. "Please, can you- just...keep the bars off? I swear, sir, I will not bolt."

Optimus hesitated for a moment. He knew that Prowl wouldn't leave without permission. He could also see the fear and panic behind the blue optics that he his abnormal well, but not well enough.

"Fine." Optimus relented.

A gush of wind involuntarily left Prowl's vents in relief as the bars disappeared, and were replaced with a harsh cough for a few kliks. Optimus was a bit startled, and worried to say the least. The brig was not heated now, as there were no prisoners, and Prowl had only been down there for a joor at the most. Optimus brushed it aside, though, for the moment anyways.

"Prowl, I wish to speak of your recent actions." Optimus said.

"I apologize, sir." Prowl returned. "I acted rashly and without thinking. I accept full blame and punishment."

"You've made my job easier." Optimus admitted. "But Cliffjumper has all ready told me that you are not entirely to blame."

"Yes, sir." Prowl said, coughing again. "Sorry. It's just from the cold."

"The cold? Besides the brig, the base is well heated." Optimus stated.

"I've been trying to reserve energon." Prowl explained. "I shut off the heat to my office and berthroom. I'm also not using my internal heater as that burns energon faster."

"That's not a bad idea." Optimus mused. "I mean, you shouldn't be making yourself sick by staying in the cold, but shutting off heat to certain rooms could help save energon."

"How do you plan on doing so?" Prowl asked.

"For now, we can bunk more bots in the same room. A maximum of five, but at least three per room. We could also put offices together. The hallways' heat would be turned off, as would the Rec. room when it wasn't in use." Optimus stated.

"The only place that should be heated at all times is the infirmary." Prowl suggested.

Optimus gave a nod. He rose to his pedes, his processor deep in thought of more ways they could possible save energon. He stopped halfway out as he suddenly remembered _why_ he had gone to the brig.

"You're free to go, Prowl." Optimus said. "Don't give me reason to make you return here."

"No, sir." Prowl answered. "I mean, you won't have to."

Optimus gave a hurried nod and quickly went up to the main level to make his announcement.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

"Stop laughing."

Prowl rolled his optics as not one, but both of his brothers rolled about, hooting with laughter.

"You?" Smokescreen asked. "_You _were in the brig?"

"Yes." Prowl answered for the umpteenth time. "How is it that you found out?"

"Oh..." Smokescreen and Bluestreak looked at each other with knowing looks. "Just around."

Prowl shook his helm as he sat down at the end of the second berth. He sniffed once, still getting over the cold. He had been bunked with his brothers, and had seen that another bot was being sent here. Who it was, he had no idea. He had set up a careful report about who would be best placed with each other and posted it on the wall. When he went to check on it, he found bots trading partners and roommates like a youngling did batter ball cards.

"From _who_ did you find out?" Prowl asked.

"Just a bot." Smokescreen stated quickly as Bluestreak opened his mouth to answer. "You wouldn't know him."

"Try me." Prowl dared.

Bluestreak opened his mouth but snapped it shut as a death threatening glare was shot at him by Smokescreen.

"No, let him speak." Prowl said.

"Don't you dare." Smokescreen growled under his breath.

"Bluestreak can speak." Prowl stated. "He has a mouth."

"Yeah, a big one." Smokescreen returned.

"Hey!" Bluestreak exclaimed. "It's not like I would tell him who it was! I'm not _that_ dumb."

"Bluestreak, what are you hiding?" Prowl pressed, knowing that Bluestreak was about to burst with the information.

And burst he was about to. He practically vibrated with the urge to use his vocalizer. The name was on the tip of his bitten glossa.

Prowl vented as he rose to open the door as a knock sounded. He took a step back as he came face-to-face with Jazz.

"Hey, Prowler." Jazz grinned as he stepped in. "Looks like I'll be bunkin' in 'ere."

Prowl looked over at his brothers, who both had shocked looks plastered on their faces.

"It was Jazz, wasn't it?" Prowl asked.

"Well, you see- I mean, it might have been, er-"

"Bluestreak."

"Okay! It was!" Bluestreak exclaimed with a vent of relief.

"Good going." Smokescreen moaned as he slapped a hand over his optics.

"What did Ah do?"

"Nothing." Prowl vented.

"Okay then." Jazz said, sounding a bit put off. "Ah'll, uh, set up a blanket in the corner."

"No need for that." Smokescreen stated. "Me and Blue-"

"Blue and I." Prowl corrected.

"_Me_ and Blue can sleep in one berth." Smokescreen said smugly.

Prowl sighed and shook his helm. "Must you be so immature?"

"Must you be so uptight?" Smokescreen mimicked.

Jazz chuckled. "Ah see. Prowl and Ah can take the other."

Prowl froze. "What?"

"Of course, ya can sleep with one of yer bros if ya want." Jazz stated.

Prowl turned and looked at the two, devilish grins on the other berth. Besides the fact that both of his brothers wanted to be evil right now, Smokescreen snored loudly and Bluestreak kicked in recharge.

"Do what you want." Prowl stated in a defeated tone.

"Then it's settled." Bluestreak stated.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Optimus finished his data-pad and put it in the proper file. With a heavy vent he turned back to he desk and took one from the ever present stack of work to do. He onlined it, and vented again as it displayed one of Sideswipe's latest antics. How did he convince Huffer of all mechs to lick a flag pole? In this freezing weather, of all things!

Optimus was so engrossed in his work that he was unaware of his door sliding open and closed. Maybe it was because very few bots had his office code, but it went unnoticed none the less. He was completely oblivious to the frame slinking behind his desk and chair, that is, until a pair of hands ghosted in front of his optics.

"Guess who." a soft voice whispered in his audios.

"Elita." Optimus breathed out as he moved the pink servos away and turned his helm. "I wasn't expecting you untill tomorrow."

"I know." Elita-1 stated as she turned her mech's chair around and sat down on his lap. "It would have ruined the surprise."

"What are you doing here?"Optimus asked, trying to keep himself from shuddering as Elita tickled him by making patterns on his chassis.

"I heard you didn't have a roommate." Elita stated as she got _very _close to his face plates. "Someone had to come and keep you warm."

Optimus chuckled a bit, only to be cut off as warm lips were practically smashed into his own.

:: Warn me next time, before you dent my face in :: Optimus chided playfully across the sparkbond.

He felt Elita's irritation at his remark, and pressed into him harder.

:: I'm gonna dent you other places, too :: Elita promised.

:: Right in here? :: Optimus asked. :: With the door unlocked and all? ::

:: Mute it :: Elita said as she pried herself from his lips and got off his lap.

"Where are you taking me?" Optimus asked as Elita started to pull on his servo.

"Where do you think, dummy?" Elita asked.

Optimus shook his helm in amusement, but pulled free from Elita's strong grip. "I have work to finish, Elita."

"Not anymore." Elita stated.

"Elita." Optimus vented. "Don't-"

"Don't what? Tempt you?" Elita practically purred.

She swung herself onto his desk, knocking off a few items and pads. She stretched her frame over the remaining pads in a very compromising position.

"Femme." Optimus muttered. "I need to finish my work."

"What work?" Elita asked. "I don't see any." She lay flat on her back and turned only her helm to grin darkly at her mate. "Wanna join me?"

"Not particularly." Optimus teased. "But I will make you useful."

"Oh?" Elita asked, completely into it. "Do as you wish with me."

"Thank you." Optimus replied as he bent down to pick up one a stylus and unfinished data-pad that had fallen onto the floor as Elita replaced them.

He placed the data-pad on the dusty rose shaded stomach armour before him, and began to write.

"Optimus!" Elita exclaimed as her mate started to use her in place of the desk.

"What?" Optimus asked. "I'm doing as you suggested."

"So, this is how you want to spend our few orns?" Elita asked, her seductive attitude melting away and returned as disappointment twinged with sadness and a hint of anger.

She swung her pedes over the side of the desk, away from Optimus, and stood up.

"You know where to find me _when_ you change your mind." she stated as she headed to the door.

"Elita." Optimus said lowly just as her hand stretched out to the keypad.

"What?" Elita huffed as she turned around, only to find the ceiling coming into view as she was pushed to the floor.

:: Warn me next time :: Elita stated as she melted under the kiss.

:: Mute it :: Optimus returned. :: I'm gonna dent you ::

:: Give it your best shot :: Elita returned.

Optimus growled as his face mask slid back. How long he had waited for this very moment!

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl watched as Smokescreen and Jazz went head to head in a game of War. The cards were flipped fast, and both mechs were faster in collecting their opponents card.

"Must you play such a youngling game?" Prowl asked as an argument broke out of 'that's my card' and 'you cheated'.

"Hey, you wont let us gamble." Smokescreen stated as he slapped down his card. "War!"

He and Jazz both snapped down their cards, and flipped over the middle one. Jazz smirked as he took all six cards into his growing pile.

"I swear to Primus, you have to be cheating." Smokescreen stated.

"How do ya cheat at War?" Jazz argued back.

Smokescreen shook his helm and put down his own card. "Hah!"

"Lucky." Jazz started as he collected the next six sets.

Prowl rose as there was a knocking at the door. He opened it.

"Hurry up 'fore ya let all the heat out!" Jazz exclaimed as Bluestreak scurried in, holding a few small cubes of energon for the evening ration.

The cubes were handed out, and Jazz and Smokescreen finished their game between sips. In the end, Jazz won and made sure to rub it in Smokescreen's face plates as much as he could.

Jazz plopped down on the berth next to Prowl, sipping his cube again. "Lookin' forward ta sleepin' with meh?" he asked as he elbowed Prowl a bit.

"What?" Prowl asked in confusion. "What is there to look forward to? A warmer berth?"

Jazz snickered. "Ya know, if any other bot told meh that Ah was bein' used as a berth warmer, I'd leave 'em."

"They'll be none of _that_." Smokescreen stated, a bit of warning in his voice.

"We actually want to recharge tonight without listening to the two of you in the berth. Right next to us too!" Bluestreak prattled.

"Same goes for you two, then." Jazz stated, hiding a dirty grin behind his cube.

"Ew."Bluestreak said as he slowly processed Jazz's words. The next thing Prowl knew, Bluestreak was on his pedes. "Ew! Oh Primus! I mean-ew! Just- Ew. Ew. Ew! Smokscreen and I are brothers! Why would I- Ew!"

Prowl was still confused. Jazz was laughing, well, snorting and trying to keep from spitting out energon.

"What is so disgusting?" Prowl asked. "What wouldn't you do with Smokescreen. Wait, aren't I your brother too? You didn't mention me, would you do ...whatever this is with me?"

Jazz fell off the berth, laughing so hard. Smokescreen looked both about to lubricate with laughter, and green at the mere thought off...whatever it was Jazz was talking about.

"I would _never_ 'face you!" Bluestreak exclaimed. "Not if my life depended on it! Not that you're not good-looking or nothing, but-"

"What?" Prowl exclaimed, leaping to his pedes. "This is what this is about?"

Jazz almost fell over again. "Wow, Ah mean, wow. It took ya tha' long ta figure it out?"

Smokescreen had his helm in his hands, muttering something about 'stupid fraggers' and 'not ready yet'.

Prowl felt himself heating up in embarrassment. He checked his internal chronometer, desperately looking for some sort of escape from this touchy subject.

"It's late." Prowl blurted out. "We should...get some recharge, while we can."

Smokescreen stretched and yawned dramatically. "I second the notion. Come on, Blue."

"But I'm not-"

"Let's go, Blue." Smokescreen hissed.

"Okay, coming." Bluestreak said as he took a running start and leapt into the berth, knocking Smokescreen over.

"Bluestreak!" Smokescreen exclaimed in irritation as he shoved his brother off and onto the floor.

"You said come on, so I came on!" Bluestreak argued as he clattered into the berth and plopped down.

Prowl vented as he and Jazz got into the other berth. Was it just him, or had this arrangement just become awkward? Jazz spread out all nice and comfy on the berth, while Prowl lay on his side and tried to keep a good distance between him and Jazz. It was just like that fragger to creep over to his side, klik by klik, scooch by scooch.

Two sets of snores came from the other berth, one deafening. There also came the distinct sound of metal hitting metal.

"Hey, Prowl." Jazz whispered.

"What?" Prowl hissed back.

"Are ya really gonna go ta sleep? Jus' like tha'? Ah mean, ya got another bot in a berth with ya, and yer gonna jus' go ta sleep?" Jazz asked in a low voice.

"Yes." Prowl returned. "Recharge well, Jazz."

"Ya know-" Jazz continued, moving closer.

"Move back." Prowl muttered, making the white mech scoot back a bit.

"Ya know."Jazz picked up once again. "Ya can sleep with meh, or ya can _sleep_ with meh."

Prowl snapped forward. He snatched one of the two warming blankets off the berth, making sure to yank the second one off of Jazz but still leave it on the berth, and rose to his pedes.

"Where ya' goin'?" Jazz asked, sitting up himself. "Ah was only kidding-"

"No, you weren't." Prowl said firmly, but still low enough to not wake up his brothers. "I may be under orders to sleep in this room, but that does not mean I have to share a berth."

"Prowler, come'on now." Jazz said in a rather whiney voice. "Get back in the berth. Ah won't suggest nothin'-"

"No." Prowl stopped him before he could continue. "I refuse to recharge in the same berth as you. You, Jazz, may see nothing wrong with being promiscuous and bouncing from berth to berth and bot to bot, but I do."

"Promiscuous?" Jazz repeated, anger seeping into his voice. "Ah am not-"

"What do you call sleeping with multiple bots, Jazz?" Prowl asked. "You are the very definition of promiscuity. You use others for nothing more but a quick lay and a warm berth. I don't want any part of that."

Prowl turned to lay his blanket down in a corner. Jazz's voice stopped him.

"Yer jus' upset." Jazz stated.

"I am not."

"Course you are." Jazz continued. "It was probably too early for meh ta suggest anythin'. Yer still sore 'bout Whiplash an' all nearly rapin' ya."

Prowl's doorwings trembled visibly with anger. No. _He_ trembled with _rage_ as he turned to face Jazz. His voice was no longer low, but he spoke normally in the room as he continued his discussion with Jazz.

"And so what if it is?" Prowl asked. "Even if it wasn't, I wouldn't interface with you. Whiplash has nothing with me not 'facing you, Jazz."

"Oh, really?" Jazz asked, rising to his own pedes. "Ah find tha' hard ta believe. Not like ya' haven't done it before. I think yer jus' sore 'bout wha' happened to ya, now yer takin' it out on meh!"

"You're right on one count, Jazz." Prowl stated cooly."I am taking it out on you. Because you first started it."

"Ah started nothin'!" Jazz exclaimed. "You jus' don' wanna 'face 'gain so soon after Whiplash. Ah get it, ya can stop bein' so-"

"Again, Jazz?" Prowl asked. "Are you so certain about that?"

"You gotta be kiddin' meh." Jazz said blankly. "You've never 'faced before."

"Now you've got it." Prowl replied.

Jazz stopped. "You're how old?"

"Age has nothing to do with it." Prowl stated as he put his blanket on the floor. "I simply believe that a first interface should be something...special. Between a bonded couple."

"Kinda prudish, if ya ask meh." Jazz stated.

Prowl smirked a bit, jus barely there but there none the less. A kind of smirk that made one regret whatever they just said, no matter what.

"Only logical for you to think so. Good night, Jazz."

"But-"

"Good night."

Jazz vented as he stood there, looking at Prowl. Prowl lay down on his side and faced the wall. He shuttered his optics, but remained awake. He heard Jazz vent again as the white mech lay down. He never heard him breathe evenly as in recharge, but he had fallen asleep a few joors later. Jazz had followed him into recharge only a few breems after the Datsun had.

OoOoOoOoO

His blue optics opened slowly. A smile crept across his battle scarred face as he turned in the berth to face the other bot with him.

"I've forgotten just how good it is to wake up with you by my side." Optimus rumbled in sleepy, lazy tone.

"You're just glad to have someone keep you warm." Elita returned. "And face with."

"And also that." Optimus replied as he slowly sat up, joints, berth, and bondmate protesting at the movement.

"Elita-"

"Just for a few more breems?" Elita pleaded.

"The troops-"

"Will be fine while you spend some time with your bondmate for five breems." Elita finished.

"It's never just five breems." Optimus stated.

"Mute it and lay back down. You're making the berth cold." Elita said firmly.

"Why can I not say no to you?" Optimus asked as he snuggled back up under the warming blanket.

"Because you know if you do that you'll be crashing on the Rec. room sofa tonight." Elita returned.

"You wouldn't send me out there, not with the heat being off and all." Optimus stated in a teasing tone.

"No, I'm not that mean!" Elita exclaimed. "I'd give you a warming blanket."

"You are cruel, femme." Optimus said in a grave tone with a shake of his helm.

"Mute it." Elita scoffed, right before she pressed Optimus into a hard kiss.

:: Again, with the smashing of my faceplates. How am I going to explain to the troops what happened to me when they see a large dent on my lips? :: Optimus asked through the bond.

:: I wouldn't be worried about that :: Elita returned.

:: And why not? :: Optimus asked.

:: You'll be too busy explaining why you can't walk properly ::

Optimus' engines revved as he flipped over on top of his femme.

"You asked for it."

"Give it your best shot, mech."

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl easily his any comments he might of had as Optimus practically limped into his office. Well, it was actually Optimus' office, but with the heat cuts he and Prowl needed to share it.

"I'm sorry for the delay, Prowl." Optimus apologized as he sat down behind his desk. "Something, er- came up."

"I-I understand." Prowl said, his doorwings twitching at the crack in his voice. Now was _not_ the time to laugh at his CO. Of course, Optimus would be in a good mood, but that wasn't the point.

Optimus ignored the slip. He noticed a stack of data-pads on his desk. "Are this to be done?"

Prowl shook his helm. "No, sir. Those are finished and are simply in need of your check."

Optimus gave a nod of his helm. He picked up the first one to begin his own work.

The two worked in silence. As the office was only about medium size, and still faring on the small side, there was only room for Optimus' desk. There also was only room for Optimus and his own pads at the desk. Prowl sat in a chair in the corner of the room, his pads balanced on his lap. He had tried working with Optimus at the desk, but the close contact had felt severely awkward to the Datsun, and there wasn't enough room for him anyways.

Optimus turned from time to time to check on the othet bot in the room. It was common knowledge that Prowl crashed at the illogical, and from lack of energon. With the energon shortage now, and the amount of stupid things bots did with their free time, it wouldn't be too far a stretch to say that Prowl was due for a crash.

The CO noticed a definite droop in the usually proud doorwings, even more so now that he actually had them again and in full control. He also had a slight haze in his ratcher sunken in optics.

"Have you fueled at all today, Prowl?" Optimus asked rather suddenly, causing the black and white to start slightly.

"I'm sorry, sir?" Prowl asked.

"Have you fueled at all?" Optimus repeated.

"I took my ration from the Rec. room this morning." Prowl assured the mech._ And gave it to Bumblebee before he and Wheeljack went out energon scouting_.

Optimus gave a nod of his helm before returning to his pads. They continued again in silence, only commenting on a data-pad every now or then, or questioning some information. Prowl seemed to completely zone out after awhile, completely and totally engrossed with his work that he worked almost mechanically. Optimus could actually hear the whirring and clicking in his processor as numbers and glyphs were crunched out so fast that it must have hurt.

Prowl was totally unaware of the door sliding open, and a pink frame slinking in.

"Elita." Optimus hissed between denta.

"No one need know." Elita stated, shimmying up to his lap and drawing patterns on his chassis.

"Elita, you shouldn't-"

"Mute it, Optimus." Elita smirked. "No time to act shy. We only have a few orns."

"I'm not being shy, Elita." Optimus stated. "But we really shouldn't-"

"Then don't be so modest." Elita continued, getting closer and closer to Optimus and finally resting her forehelm to his. "It's fun to be dirty sometimes."

"Elite, stop it." Optimus said in a low voice.

"Come on." Elita coaxed, her voice dripping with lust and seduction.

A voice gasped lightly in the corner, and a scuffle. Elita leapt from her seat on Optimus' lap and charged up her cannons. She flipped back as she saw a black and white doorwinger with his helm down so low that his chin touched his chassis.

"Prowl? What are you doing in here?" Elita exclaimed, sounding angry and ready to kill.

Prowl kept his optics shuttered as he kept his helm lowered. "I-I was doing my work. I swear, I didn't see anything."

Elita pinched the bridge of her olfactory sensor as Optimus shook his helm. "I tried to warn you."

Elita sighed. "Prowl."

"I'm leaving, don't worry, ma'am." Prowl said as he grabbed his pads and unsteadily rose to his pedes. He teeter about a bit as he rose, but it seemed to be from his helm being down so low he was practically crushing his own chin.

"Prowl, you don't have to leave." Elita said. "I should be going."

"You only have a few orns." Prowl contradicted as he hurried to the door. "I promise I didn't see anything."

"But you heard." Elita finished his statement.

Prowl gave a hurried nod as he dropped pads, fumbled with the door, scooped up his pads and dropped them again. As the door slid open he resolved his problem by kicking them out and following them in leaving. The door slid shut again, and Elita spun around to face Optimus.

Said mech put his hands up in the air. "I tried to warn you!"

"Yeah, well, could you have tried a bit _harder_?" Elita snapped. "Because of you, I looked like fool!"

"No." Optimus assured her. "You did that all on your own."

Elita glowered, looking about to kill. Optimus put his hands back up into the air.

"I'll sleep in the Rec. room." Optimus agreed with the unsaid statement.

Elita growled a bit as she shook her helm and covered her optics.

"It's not your fault." Optimus said gently.

"How is it not?" Elita asked.

Optimus stammered for a moment. He sighed. "I've got nothing."

Elita snorted. "Your an aft behind closed doors."

Optimus snorted once but turned away as his comm. link beeped. He pressed a digit to it. He faintly heard Elita mumbling something along the lines of, 'Well, that killed the mood', but ignored it.

:: Red Alert to Optimus Prime ::

:: Yes, Red? ::

:: Sir, there is a bot in front of your door ::

:: Red, I'm a bit busy at the moment ::

:: I know you are, sir, but, you see- ::

:: What is that supposed to mean? :: Optimus interrupted.

:: Well, you sent Prowl out of your office after Elita-1 went in. You have yet to send her out, so I figured...well-::

:: You figured wrong :: Optimus said firmly.

:: Well, Prowl fell in front of your door and has yet to get up. I thought I should want you so that you wouldn't step on him when you left ::

Optimus sighed. :: Thank you, Red Alert ::

:: Yes, sir. I- ::

Red Alert gasped as he looked into one of his monitors. He hurriedly pressed his comm. link to warn the mech by the front of the base.

:: Sideswipe! What have I told you about playing with my cameras! Do you know how many security risks that is? I mean, you could...

OoOoOoOoO

Optimus knelt down in front of his door, shaking the downed black and white a bit. He didn't budge. Elita gingerly picked her way around the scattered data-pads.

"Is he all right?" Elita-1 asked.

"He's not waking up." Optimus replied. "His signature is low, too."

Prowl sighed softly, more moaning then a vent. He shifted a bit before his optics fluttered open. They were dull and flickered on and off for a few moments until the mech was fully rebooted. He vented heavily as he pressed a hand over a good sized dent near the back of his helm, and sat up. He immediately felt his face heat up as he saw his CO and his CO's bondmate leaning over him.

"Oh, frag." Prowl mumbled inaudibly.

"Are you all right?" Elita asked. "You probably crashed from...what happened in there. I can see how that would seem illogical, though. I mean-"

Prowl shook his helm, his face plates now turning red with the heat. "No, ma'am. It's only logical that you want to...er, spend time with your...bondmate."

Now Elita felt her face plates heat up a bit, but not as badly as Prowl's. It was almost cute, the younger bot blushing so badly.

"What are your energy levels, Prowl?" Optimus asked.

Cure his heating face. "Around 30%, sir."

"What are they _exactly_?" Optimus pressed.

"27% sir." Prowl replied.

Optimus vented. On a normal day he would tell Prowl to go fuel. He couldn't do that, now with the rationing. The most he could do was tell the Datsun to go lie down and try to reserve the rest of his fuel.

"Yes, sir." Prowl replied.

He rose, unsteadily, and began to pick up the scattered data-pads.

"I'll take those, Prowl." Elita said, taking the pads before he could protest.

Elita vented as she subspaced the data-pads. Optimus opened his office door again to let the femme enter.

"Elita, I need to speak with you." Optimus said after sitting back down.

"About what, Optimus?" Elita asked, placing the pads she had taken from Prowl on the desk.

"It's been on my processor for awhile." Optimus admitted.

Elita-1 sat down, this time in her own chair instead of Optimus' lap. "What is it?"

"Elita, we don't have enough energon." Optimus said. "Prowl is only one example. Bumblebee has been suffering as well, as have many others here."

Elita nodded. "My femmes are having the same problems."

"We cannot remain here, anymore." Optimus said. "We need to scout other planets for an energy source."

"You mean, leave Cybertron?" Elita asked, a bit shocked and surprised.

Optimus gave a nod.

"When are you leaving?" Elita asked.

"As soon as I can get the troops together." Optimus replied.

"What about my femmes? And Ultra Magnus' group?" Elita asked.

Optimus vented and shook his helm. "It's too dangerous to take everyone, Elita. Leaving Cybertron would also be an open invitation for the Decepticons to take over."

Elita nodded, seeing the logic. "You wish for Magnus to remain here...and me as well."

Optimus gave a small nod. "Elita, if I could, I would take you with us, but-"

"I understand." Elita said, trying to smile besides the sorrow she was sending through the bond. "Let's at least make our final orns memorable?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Optimus returned.

Elita smiled seductively as she slunk over to her mech's lap.

"You know what?" Elita whispered in his audio.

"Hm?" Optimus hummed.

"I think the mood came back."

* * *

Author's Note- I am so sorry it took so long to update last time! I lost my muse for a bit (now I'm at least 2 chapters ahead) and now I can't stop! Last time was acting kind of funky, not letting me access my account page.

So, OP is thinking of leaving Cybertron...what do you think's gonna happen?

Poor Prowl, dealing with Jazz and then witnessing his Leader about to make out.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

Prowl felt the faint rumbling of the ship moving beneath them. The orange space plane, fittingly dubbed the _Arc_, was lifting off.

He could see the sadness in his Commanding Officer's face plates as he stood by the porthole. His hand rested on it, and a far away look graced his optics. Following his gaze, a pink femme would come into view.

Prowl turned to see Ironhide and Inferno, side by side at another porthole. Chromia and Firestar were easily made out. It was quite clear that all three mechs were using both their bond and their private comm. links to send reassuring messages back and forth, for as long as radio waves would keep them.

The ship became warmer and warmer as they left the atmosphere. The femmes had been long since out of view, but it was obvious that pulses were still being sent through the bonds. A sudden, light feeling came over the ship as they burst through the atmosphere and hit nothing but space.

Looking at a screen, a second signal was being picked up. A panic fell on each and every spark as one word raced through every processor and was blurted from every lip.

_Decepticons._

OoOoOoOoO

A voice was calling to him. It was so...so...distant. He was so...tired. That voice kept pulling him from his recharge, though.

"Hey, he's waking up." a voice said above him.

-Prowl?-

-I'm here, Blue. Where's Smokescreen?-

-Here- answered a faint voice.

"Prowl, wake up." that voice repeated, shaking him.

-Hey, Prowl, wake up for Ratchet, will ya'?- Smokescreen asked, his bond becoming stronger and stronger by the second.

_So that's Ratchet._ -I'm trying, Smokescreen-

-Can you try a little harder? Ratchet's getting angry and I _really_ don't want to get hit with a wrench. I just got put back together! The last thing I want to do is-

-Wait, Blue, put back together?- Prowl interrupted. _Primus, even in the bond he's a chatterbox._

-Ratch'll explain if you wake up- Smokescreen promised.

-Trying- Prowl said, feeling his bond becoming faint. -Just...tired-

"Don't go back to recharge!" a voice shouted above him. Smokescreen, maybe?

-You gotta wake up, Prowl- Bluestreak said. -You're really low on energon. And, when I saw really, I mean _really_! I mean, really, you need the enegon but you gotta wake up-

- Bluestreak!- Smokescreen shouted. -You're boring me into recharge with your rambeling!-

-Blue, I promise to wake up if you shut up, deal?- Prowl asked.

Prowl felt the laughter of Smokescreen and the not-so-amused pulse from Bluestreak.

-Deal- Bluestreak muttered.

"What are you laughing about?" Prowl heard Ratchet ask as he slowly brought himself into full consciousness.

"Inside joke." Smokescreen answered, a bit giggly.

"_Very_ inside." Bluestreak mumbled.

Ratchet rolled his optics. Siblings.

Prowl couldn't bit his glossa fast enough to hold back a moan. His optics unshuttered, and turned a dull blue. His mouth was so dry, he couldn't even swallow. His servos and pedes felt like heavy lead, and his processor felt like goop.

"Here, drink this. It'll help with the cotton mouth." Ratchet promised as he helped Prowl sit up some and pressed a cube to his lips.

After a few sips, Prowl was able to take the cube himself and finished it off.

"What happened?" Prowl asked once the cube was finished. It wasn't high energy, just barely made the cut as low grade, but anything was better then nothing.

"What do you last remember?" Ratchet asked.

"We left Cybertron and the Decpticons caught up with us and boarded our ship. We crash landed, didn't we?" Prowl asked, hoping to right. He would hate to have been told he lost his memory.

"That's about all everyone else remembers." Ratchet stated.

"Where are we, exactly?" Prowl asked.

"I'll leave Blue and Smokes to explain that. I've got to check on the others." Ratchet answered, turning and taking a few steps over to the next bot.

Come to think of it, Prowl just noticed that he was laying on the floor. Then again, everyone was on the floor. Either laying there, or sitting propped up against the wall. Bumblebee was one of the few up and about, helping out wherever he could. He handed out energon, and helped those that couldn't hold it themselves by holding it _himself_.

"You should see it out there." the youngling could be heard saying every so often. "It's beautiful. I've never seen so much organic life in one place!"

"Where are we?" Prowl asked.

"A little planet called Earth." Smokescreen answered, taking a few gulps from his own cube to finish it off.

"Have you seen it?" Prowl asked next.

Both shook their helms. "Bee popped his helm out and ran back inside shouting about how nice it was and all that."

"Where are the Decepticons?" Prowl asked. "How did they escape?" he continued, rising to his pedes as if expecting a Decepticon to pop out of the shadows.

"Teletraan 1 started up and sent out a probe. It started to fix us up, but the lousy machine somehow managed to pick a 'Con! I mean, really, an entire ship filled with Autobots and Decepticons, and it just so happens to pick a 'Con first!" Bluestreak exclaimed.

Smokescreen rolled his optics. "Anyways, the 'Cons are gone. Teletraan did manage to get us some new alt. modes, though. Their not bad...for a primitive mud-ball of a planet."

Prowl nodded. He felt a bit sore in places, especially his joints, but from the looks of things, he wasn't the only one. He also felt lighter. Maybe his new alt. mode, his Earthen alt. mode, had something to do with that.

"Autobots, stand in attention." Optimus called out over the murmur and discussion between the bots.

Now that most of the soreness was gone, and everyone had fueled enough to stand on his own two pedes, they were able to line up. Optimus motioned for Prowl out of the line, and handed him a data-pad to keep count of everyone present and the ones in best form.

In the end, Hound and Cliffjumper were sent out to scout out the terrain and see if they could find the Decepticons. Everyone left at base was put to work cleaning debris and crushed areas of the _Arc_.

As Prowl rolled a large boulder out of the ship, he felt something he hadn't in a long time.

He felt _free_.

Here was a new chance for him, an instant do-over. He couldn't change what had happened back on Cybertron, but what happened on Cybertron stayed on Cybertron. As far as Prowl was concerned, Whiplash wasn't within a zillion light years if this new planet.

He was released of his fear of being hunted. He was finally free.

_Right?_

OoOoOoOoO

He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't fragging believe it! How could this have happened! It was just too horrible, too dreadfully awful, too-

"Hey, hurry it up back there!" Sideswipe called out, the red Lamborghini speeding through the forest.

"The point of patrol is to actually _patrol_." Prowl returned cooly.

"Well, we're not gonna be able to patrol with you lagging behind!" Sideswipe argued.

"If you race you won't be able to see anything." Prowl nearly snapped._ How is it that I got stuck patrolling with the both of you? _

"What is there to see?" Sideswipe returned heatedly.

"How about you two stop arguing and look up?" Sunstreaker suggested, transforming in the middle of the forest and doing said action himself.

Both red sportscar and police car transformed and shielded their optics from the sun as the looked up. A think, black smoke trail scarred the clear blue sky in a downward pattern.

"Is it a plane?" Sideswipe asked.

Prowl shook his head. "The heat signature's too strong."

"A plane on fire?" Sideswipe questioned, yelping as a yellow hand connected with his helm.

"It's something from space, entered the atmosphere." Prowl stated, scanning at and finding it's trajectory path. "It's going to crash due north, 5.176 miles from here."

"Then let's go check it!" Sideswipe stated, transforming and zooming away before either other bot could breathe a word.

"How do you stand him?" Prowl found himself asking as he transformed.

Sunstreaker shrugged before collapsing into his own alt. "I don't. I'm stuck with him."

"Well, you are twins." Prowl stated as he sped up to try and catch up with the speeding Lambo ahead before his dust trail settled.

"It's more then that." Sunstreaker replied. "Anything happens to him, it happens to me."

"A sibling bond, I understand." Prowl said nonchalantly.

"You don't." Sunstreaker said firmly. " I know everything about Sides, and he knows everything about me. We can't hide anything, no mater how hard we try. If he gets hurt, I feel it. More then a typical sibling bond-so don't even say it. If something ever happens to him, it'll take me out too."

"I never knew that." Prowl admitted.

"We try not to make it common knowledge. If the 'Cons got wind of it, they'd try harder to wipe at least one of us out." Sunstreaker chuckled. "We're not the best frontliners 'cause we want to, but because we have to be."

Prowl would have nodded, if he hadn't been in alt. mode, and instead flashed his lights once. "That's a pretty heavy burden to be laden with."

"Ah, now you're gonna be all sentimental and such?" Sunstreaker scoffed. "I mean-_Prowl, stop_!"

Prowl screeched hard as Sunstreaker transformed. No sooner had he stood up himself in bi-pedial mode, and a little before, Sunstreaker had grabbed his servo and yanked him into the bushes. Prowl heard a clang, but no shout from one sibling followed by an angry defence from the other.

"Keep down." Sideswipe lipped.

:What-: "Ah." Prowl gasped as his comm. sent a searing pain through his helm.

"Don't use a comm. either." Sideswipe continued to lip, slowly. "He's scrambling the signals, and it'll let him know we're here."

"Who?" Prowl asked, following Sideswipe's example of lipping words and barely whispering.

Sideswipe fell silent and cast a glance at his brother. Sunstreaker returned with his own worried look. It was obvious to Prowl that they were speaking through their bond, something that could never be tampered with by frequency scramblers.

"Who is it?" Prowl lipped again, tucking his doorwings down to try and stay hidden more. They were so cramped all ready.

"Whiplash." Sunstreaker admitted silently.

Prowl felt his very spark stop. A wave of white hot, freezing fear wrapped around him. His spark felt like it was being crushed by the jet black hands of Whiplash himself, and his intakes quickened just a bit.

"He won't find us here." Sideswipe said reassuringly.

Prowl shook his helm a bit, stopping after the branches above his helm rustled a bit. "He all ready knows we're here."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics exadgeratedly. "Don't be so dramaitic, he couldn't possibly know we're here."

Prowl went to shake his helm again, but shrugged instead. It wasn't right of him to scare both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker with his paranoia. He also shouldn't be showing fear as their superior.

_He's doesn't know we're here. He doesn't know we're here._

He repeated again and again. If you believe something hard enough it becomes true, right?

_He doesn't know we're here. He doesn't know we're here. He does-_

Doesn't really work well when _he's_ looking right at your hiding place, malicious grin on his face plates. His optics, crimson red, seemed to pierce the bushes and look at each bot individually, sending a shudder through them one by one. His black servo came out and pointed at them, the bushes at least.

Prowl felt his spark stop again, and his intakes jammed. Sunstreaker threw a hand over Prowl's mouth to keep out the choked cries as the panic spread through his frame.

"I know you're in there." Whiplash chortled. "You hide very poorly for robots in disguise. 'Hiding in plain sight'? Try just 'plain sight'."

Sunstreaker pressed his hand harder over Prowl mouth, even though it was rapidly becoming wet with condensation. Prowl still had yet to vent.

"I won't call you spooked sparklings out...for now." Whiplash stated, rubbing his digits on his chassis as if to polish them. He looked at them as he said. "I have a message for Prowl, the Second of Command. That is, if he still holds such rank."

Prowl felt his optics widen and Sunstreaker pressed firmer still. Sideswipe put a hand over Prowl's chassis, holding him back in case he tried to flee in panic.

"Tell him that his time in numbered. I alone count the very kliks, the breems, the orns. Tell him that he cannot avoid me. No matter what he does, I will find him at the very moment I have chosen. No amount of security, no amount of hiding, no where he will go will be safe. He will live in fear and paranoia 'till I come and take him away. Then..." Whiplash chuckled and kicked a pebble towards the brush.

It bounced underneath and struck Prowl in the knee joint, as he was kneeling. Both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were wrapped around Prowl, pinning him down. He hadn't struggled or tried to run, yet, but both could _feel_ the fear and panic in him. Welling up, pouring from him. It was only a matter of time until he burst from it and protocal took over.

"Then." Whiplash repeated. "He will know what will happen then. Once I take him, he will never be seen again."

Whiplash turned to leave. He took one step and stopped. He closed his optics and counted to five. Right on cue, a voice came from the bushes.

"You coward!" Sideswipe shouted from the bushes.

"Sides." Sunstreaker hissed through his denta.

"I am the coward?" Whiplash asked, turning only a bit to look at the brush. "Says the sparkling in the bush. Would you rather I told your Second myself?"

Sunstreaker rapidly shook his helm at Sideswipe to keep quiet. Sideswipe vented softly. Whiplash laughed.

"That is what I thought."

Whiplash turned once again to leave. Sideswipe, unable to hold his glossa, shouted out again.

"And just what do you think you c_ould_ do with him, in the completely illogical and not-going-to-happen predicament that you do get him?" Sideswipe dared.

"I would do things that you could not even imagine. You, who were raised in the very Pits of the Old Kaon." Whiplash rumbled.

"How-"

"I know more about you, Sideswipe, then you know of yourself." Whiplash stated.

"Oh, yeah?" Sideswipe tested.

"Yes." Whiplash returned without a moments hesitation.

"Well, then, do you know this?" Sideswipe shouted out from the underbrush. "That Sunny and I won't let you so much as lay a claw of yours on Prowl."

Prowl squirmed a bit beneath their grasp, pressure finally making him start to crack. Sunstrekaer tightened his grip and pressed his hand even firmer. Whiplash smirked.

"Tell Prowl that I look forward to seeing him again." Whiplash stated. "I look forward to finishing what we started, last time. I will be waiting-Ah, how silly of me. He will be the one waiting, in _fear_. The hunt begins."

Whiplash started walking once again, and wasn't interrupted as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were frantically trying to hold down a frantic doorwinger.

"In the name of Science and Logic!" Whiplash cried out from the fauna.

A whine escaped Prowl's vocalizer as he tried to claw his way free of the twins grasp.

"Shh." Sunstreaker warned, his hand still over the Datsun's mouth.

Sideswipe squeezed Prowl harder. "This is gonna be sooo ackward later."

"Shut up." Sunstreaker hissed. His servos and grip became stronger. "Go see if he's gone."

"Right now?"

"Sideswipe!" Sunstreaker growled.

"Right now." Sideswipe answered himself as he sprang up and disappeared.

He was gone for what seemed like hours, but turnd out to be a few, measly minutes.

- All clear, bro. That aft's long gone -

- You sure? - Sunstreaker asked, through the bond as well.

- Hey, I followed his trail and I'm not dead. I'm heading back now -

"Prowl?" Sunstreaker asked, his voice normal now.

Prowl had his optics closed, his frame as tense and still as a too stretched rubber band. Sunstreaker moved his hand from the Datsun's mouth. Prowl gasped in, but nothing more.

"Hey, come on." Sunstreaker urged. "We gotta get going before he decides to come back."

Prowl didn't move so much as a connecting ligament. His optics seemed fused shut. His started to vent again, but so quickly that Sunstreaker started to fear that he was going to choke on air.

"What's going on?" Sideswipe asked, pulling the brush back.

"He's in shock." Sunstreaker answered, shaking Prowl a bit. "Hey, come on. We have to get back."

Sideswipe knelt down as well, and started poking Prowl in the chassis. When that didn't work, he tapped the SIC on his optic shutters. When that too didn't work, the red mech sighed in annoyance and went into his subspace.

"What are you doing?" Sunstreaker asked as a small, circular device was drawn from the red's subspace.

"You'll see." Sideswipe replied, an all too familiar grin on his face plates. "And you might want to shut off your olfactory sensors."

"Aw, Sideswipe! Not another stink bomb!" Sunstreaker complained as he took his brothers advice and shut off his nose.

"Hey, just be glad I'm not setting it off where I originally planned to." Sideswipe stated, pulling a pin out of the gray, grenade like device.

"And where was that?" Sunstreaker dared to ask.

Sideswip hesitated a moment. "You might not want to know."

Sunstreaker vented as Sideswipe shook the grenade to activate the device. A sharp hiss came from it, but no smoke.

"I think it's busted." Sunstreaker stated.

"No, it's not." Sideswipe returned. "I used hydrogen sulfide."

"Sides, that stuffs poisonous to humans!" Sunstreaker exclaimed a bit.

"It'll clear up long before any human comes to this part of the woods." Sideswipe statted. "Hey, look, it's working."

Prowl's optics flew open as the strong sent hit his olfactory's. It made him sick to his tank, and his systems threatened to purge from both the smell and the stress of the situation.

"You all there?" Suntreaker asked as Prowl shakily sat up.

The Datsun nodded, still seemingly in a daze. Both twins took one of his servos and hefted him to his pedes.

"I'm fine." Prowl growled, shaking both of them off. "We have to get back to base. Alert the others."

He transformed and sped off faster then either had ever seen him go before. The both of them had trouble keeping up with him. It was obvious what he was doing. Blatantly obvious.

He was running. As far and fast as he wheels could take him.

He was running.

OoOoOoOoO

Optimus vented as the door closed, cutting off the view of the black and white Praxian. After sending a call, two more Praxians and a Polyhexian took his place.

Optimus carefully repeated the news he had just been told. Smokescreen sat calmly and colectivly where as Bluestreak looked a bit more nervous as he twiddled his digits and bounced his pede. Jazz was easily readable, His usually light blue visor was dark blue in anger as he paced the floor.

"We all knew that this would happen eventually." Smokescreen stated, breaking the silence.

"But so soon? I mean, we haven't even had time to make a plan! That creep's back, he wants Prowl still, and he's looking while we speak!" Bluestreak exclaimed.

Optimus raised his hand for silence, and also stilled Jazz with the same motion.

"Prowl is not safe." Optimus said. "Simply put. He is not safe. He needs bodyguards, and at least one bot with him at all times."

"He can go back to bunking with us." Bluestreak suggested.

The facemask was the only thing blocking Optimus' gentle smile. "That is a very gracious offer, Bluestreak, but the new berthrooms barely fit two berths let alone three."

"Put 'im with meh." Jazz stated in a very demanding 'don't-mess-with-it' tone. "Ah don' bunk with no one."

Optimus gave a nod of his helm. "That would make more sense. Now, about guards."

"Ironhide is out of the question." Smokescreen mused. "Being your guard, Prime. While it would be nice if Blue or I could be it, neither of us are built strong enough to be very good protection, would be more of a liability to Prowl, and we still need to cover our own shifts."

"Damn." Jazz cussed. "Ah was 'bout ta suggest that Ah do it when Smokey talked 'bout shifts. Ah can't really take off all the time... Mirage is good at Spec. Ops, but he's no head."

Optimus nodded. He had been going through files as he listened to the others. "What about the Twins?"

"What?" three voices asked in annoying unison.

"They would be the most logical choice." Optimus stated.

"Logical?" Blue asked. "No offence, sir, but I don't see the _logic_ in that at all. I mean, they don't hate him but they've never gotten along well."

"They seemed to handle today rather well." Optimus replied.

"Well...but-I mean-" Blue stammered as he tried to retaliate.

Smokescreen chuckled and jammed a thumb digit at his younger brother. "I'd like to see him like this more often."

Bluestreak scowled.

"Ah agree with Prime." Jazz stated. "They may be jerks in their spare time, but they sure do a good job on duty."

"They're also built for fighting." Smokescreen stated.

"I doubt any of them will be pleased with the arrangement." Optimus mused.

"If they don't like it, they can deal with me." Smokescreen stated firmly.

"Why don' ya really scare them? Send 'em ta see meh." Jazz smirked. "Then they'll need a shrink."

"I am not a shrink." Smokescreen grumbled. "I'm a psychologist."

"An' the difference is?" Jazz asked, his visor lightening up in shade.

Smokescreen growled a bit. "Just don't come crying to me when you can't deal with something yourself."

"Mech, if Ah told ya what went through mah helm, you'd be needin' a shrink yourself." Jazz stated.

"That's enough." Optimus said firmly, although he was amused, before a fight broke out. "You are all excused. I need to speak with the Twins now."

Smokescreen moved close to Jazz as they left. "Remind me to schedule you an appointment."

Optimus shook his helm as the door closed again. He had one more confrontation. Oh, joy.

* * *

Author's Note- Ah, Prowl looks like you're going to have some company.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

_Why me?_

That phrase ran through his helm again and again as he went to his office, sandwiched between two near identical chassis.

"You really don't need to do this." Prowl said aloud.

"Direct orders from the Prime." Sideswipe stated. "We're your new bodyguards, and our orders are to not let you out of our sight."

"I didn't mean _that_." Prowl stated. "I mean _this_! You don't need to squish me. These halls are too tiny for all three of us to walk side by side."

Sunstreaker seemed all too glad to take a step back and let Prowl get out from between them. Doorwings were _not_ at all soft.

Prowl stopped to type in his code to his office. He sighed when a red helm peeped over his shoulder.

"Sideswipe."

"Just seeing what your code is." Sideswipe stated.

"You're not supposed to." Prowl returned.

"Doesn't Ironhide know Optimus' code, though?" Sideswipe asked.

"I'm pretty sure he does." Sunstreaker answered.

"That's different." Prowl said hopefully.

"How?" Sideswipe asked.

It didn't work. With nothing more then a sigh, he typed in his access code as quickly as he could. He was quite certain that neither mech got the entire code, and stepped inside. The door slid closed, blocking both bots out of view.

Prowl vented air through his vents in gratitude for the silence, and the fact that he was _alone_. He sat down at his desk, picked up a data-pad and a stylus, and onlined it.

OoOoOoOoO

"What was that?" Sunstreaker asked as a loud _bang_ followed by crashing came from inside the Datsun's office.

Sideswipe all ready had half of the code in. The door was slid open and both came in, weapons onlined and ready to fire at the enemy. Instead of an enemy, though, an overturned chair and floored SIC were seen. Prowl was hurriedly picking himself up.

"You fall out of your chair?" Sideswipe doubled over with laughter.

Sidewipe stopped laughing as soon as he caught sight of Prowl's face. His optics were wide and he seemed to be trembling, be it slightly.

"What's that in your hands?" Sunstreaker asked, motioning at the data-pad Prowl was holding so tightly that it was beginning to crack a bit.

Prowl held out his servo, stunned silent. Sunstreaker onlined the pad, and Sideswipe peeped over his shoulder.

_'Prowl_

_The time is coming close. It seems that I am better at disguise then any of you. I am closer then you could ever imagine._

_Whiplash'_

"Where sis you get this?" Sunstreaker snapped.

Prowl swallowed down the lump in his throat. "My desk."

"Sideswipe, get Prowl to his room. Now." Sunstreaker ordered

"Let's go." Sideswipe said, taking Prowl by the upper servo and literally dragging him away.

Sunstreaker was heard comming Optimus and Jazz. Red's voice soon came over the comms, squawking about a breech in the systems. Prowl was numb to it all. He never noticed that he was soon taken from the well light halls to a dimly lit room. He didn't even notice that he had been placed in Jazz's berthroom. There was a faint buzzing in his audios, or maybe it was murmuring. Like a whisper from the other side or the _Arc_.

He never noticed when Sideswipe left and another bot took his place. He never noticed more bots coming into the room. He did notice, though, the comforting pulses that he was too numb to answer.

The numbness was broken faster then a china plate in a skeet shooting competition. Something freezing cold and wet splashed into his face, making him choke and splutter for a moment.

"Prowl, snap out of it." Smokescreen said sharply, holding a now empty cube that he had filled with water.

Prowl gasped in a bit and looked about the room. Jazz and Bluestreak were there as well.

"What?" Prowl found himself saying.

"You've been in shock for joors!" Bluestreak exclaimed. "You were just sitting there, looking at the wall. I don't even think you were looking _at_ the wall."

"Prowler, the Twins told us tha' Whiplash is 'ere." Jazz said.

"Of course he is." Prowl stated. "We landed-"

"Ah mean in the base." Jazz interrupted.

"The Twins have been known to exaggerate." Prowl stated.

A data-pad was tossed on the berth beside Prowl. A slightly cracked data-pad.

"An' wha' makes you think tha' he _isn't_ here on base?" Jazz asked.

"I have no proof that he _is_ here." Prowl argued.

"You have no proof that he isn't." Smokescreen countered.

Prowl shook his helm. He felt like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. His spark palpitated so fast and hard in his chassis it felt about to explode, and his battle computer and logic processor were working so fast to try and calculate what was going on that he had a migraine.

His doorwings and shoulders slumped in defeat. He shook his helm as he had no answer.

"Ah don' think ya should be alone. At all." Jazz stated firmly.

"Jazz, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are all ready acting as bodyguards." Prowl said.

"An' Whiplash was still able ta get into yer office." Jazz returned.

"He was in there before Prowl was, though." Bluestreak stated with a shrug. "Sorry, but it's the truth."

"Not helping, Blue." Smokescreen hissed between his denta.

"I said sorry!"

"Ah don' even think ya should leave this 'ere room." Jazz said after emerging from a quick thought.

"What?" Prowl exclaimed. "That would not be practical in any way! I have work to do, schedules to set up, rosters to make-"

"An' ya can do it right 'ere." Jazz stated. "Prowler, Ah am puttin' you under constant servalence, an' safe keepin'."

"Optimus-"

"Agrees 100%." Jazz finished, sending a data-burst to Prowl from a private conversation Jazz seemed to have been having with the CO.

Prowl scowled, his doorwings held tauntly to the sides.

"It's for the best, Prowl." Smokescreen tried to comfort. "You froze up just be reading a bad sent by him. What if you came face to face with him? You wouldn't be able to fight him, and don't tell me otherwise!"

Prowl sighed. "I don't have an option or an opinion, do I?"

"Not at all." Jazz replied. "It's settled. Yer work'll be brought to ya, an' yer energon. You won't leave this room 'cept for when it's absolutely necessary."

"And that being?" Prowl asked.

"If Whiplash himself comes in here." Smokescreen stated.

Prowl vented a bit tiredly, emotionally drained although he would not admit to something so seemingly foolish. Smokescreen rose and excused himself, reluctantly having to cover a shift. Bluestreak followed him, having a light night patrol. Jazz left without a word, leaving Prowl all to himself.

For about five breems. No sooner had he lain down to go to recharge, the door slid back open. Prowl sat up, watching as Jazz came in with a bundle of warming blankets and a pillow in his hands.

"Jazz?"

Without answering, Jazz tossed the blankets down in a corner and tossed the pillow on top. Prowl felt a twinge of guilt in his spark. He and Jazz still looked out for each other, but their friendship had been rather strained as of late. Ever since he had had that argument with Jazz on Cybertron, just before the left, the mech had been speaking very little with him, just to chit chat.

"Jazz, I-"

"Night, Prowler." Jazz interrupted cooly, ungracefully plopping down into his little nest.

Prowl vented silently and law back down, speaking only to order the lights off. He lay on his side, wings neatly folded back. He shuttered his optics, only to have them open again as if spring activated. He couldn't recharge, not when things were like this.

He swung his pedes out of the berth, his wings hanging low instead of flaring up as usual.

"Jazz, we need to speak."

"Nothin' doin'." Jazz mumbled from his 'berth', his face to the orange wall.

"Jazz, I know what I said must have hurt you."

"Don' be silly-"

"No, it must have for you to be acting like this." Prowl stated.

"Acting like what?" Jazz asked, sitting up so suddenly that Prowl started a bit. "Lights 45%."

The lights turned on a bit, just enoigh for each other to see the other.

"Like..." Prowl struggled with finding a word. "This!" he motioned at Jazz. "Cold, quiet, just...not you."

Jazz smirked for a second, but only a second. "What makes ya think ya did somthin' ta make me act like 'this'." he asked, using air quotations.

"It must have been something I said." Prowl stated. "It's the only logical explanation."

"You got any clue exactly wha' you said?" Jazz asked, testing the white Praxian.

Prowl shuttered his optics, going through the entire conversation in his processor. With a heavy vent, he shook his helm.

"I said the truth." Prowl stated.

"So, borderline callin' meh a tramp is the truth?" Jazz asked. "Coulda jus' told meh you think of meh as a whore and gotten it all out in one word 'stead of sayin' a whole bunch."

"And you think of me as a prude." Prowl retorted. "Jazz, you said so outright. I only said that you had been with multiple bots before. I don't think of you as a 'tramp' or 'whore', as you so delicately put it, but you are rather...promiscous."

Jazz snorted, as if humored. "Ah never called ya' a prude."

"Rather prudish, if ya ask meh." Prowl quoted, mimicking the white mech's Polyhexian accent.

Jazz, despite himself, laughed outright. "Tha' has ta be both the best an' worse imitation of mah accent ever!"

Prowl gave a rare smile, quickly wiping it off as he noticed what he was doing. He vented a bit, becoming serious once again. "Jazz, I apologize for what I said. I had no right to say it. It is your life, your right, and your body."

"Apology accepted." Jazz assured him. "Sorry 'bout callin' ya a prude an' all tha'."

"Accepted." Prowl returned. He vented once, keeping his optics on Jazz.

"Wha'?"

"Are things back to normal now?" Prowl asked.

Jazz snickered a bit. "Yeah, Prowler. Their back the way they should be."

"Good." Prowl said, laying back down. "Lights off."

Once again, the room was switched into darkness. Prowl shuttered his optics, and waited. He waited for a good five breems before sitting up again.

"Jazz."

"Wha'?" Jazz mumbled, now really half asleep instead of brooding.

"What are you doing?"

"Is yer circuitry on the fritz?" Jazz asked. "Ah'm tryin' ta get some charge."

"Why are you still on the floor, then?" Prowl asked, honestly confused.

"'Cause the berth's yers." Jazz stated.

"But, it's uncomfortable on the floor. I'm certain that we both could fit on the berth, if we squeezed." Prowl said.

Jazz sat up, looking into the darkness at the blue optics that barely lit up his face. His visor must have been doing the same thing.

"Prowler, Ah know yer tryin' ta be nice 'n all, but Ah don' wanna push you." Jazz said.

"How is it pushing me if I offered?" Prowl asked.

"Nah, it's all good, Prowler." Jazz assured him, lieing back down in his nest.

Prowl vented irritably as Jazz fell silent. A soft scuffle came from the berth, and Jazz shuttered his optics as he heard Prowl cover up himself with a warming blanket.

Something tickled his servo, causing him to jump right off the floor, yelling at the lights to turn on.

"What is your problem?" Prowl exclaimed, blinking hard at the harsh light.

Jazz quickly adjusted his visor to find Prowl at his pedes, right next to where he had been laying himself.

"Mah problem?" Jazz asked. "Jus' wha' do ya' think yer doin' on the floor?"

"Trying to get some recharge." Prowl replied. "You won't get into the berth, and you made me feel bad with you sleeping on the floor like a human canine. The logic decision was to lie down with you."

Jazz chuckled. "The logical choice was to get off the berth to get uncomfortable on the floor?"

"Actually, the _logical _choice was to get you into the berth, but you wouldn't." Prowl stated.

Jazz vented, and scooped up his warming blankets. He snatched the blanket right off of Prowl, causing him to exclaim a bit as a cold draft hit him.

"What are you doing?" Prowl exclaimed.

"Gettin' inta the berth!" Jazz stated, exasperated. "Isn' that wha' you wanted?"

"I-" Prowl swallowed, feeling his face plates heat up against his struggle to cool them. "I just wanted to be next to you."

"Then get up an' inta the berth!" Jazz said, kicking Prowl a bit in his pede to get him moving.

Prowl scrambled to his pedes, and squeezed into the berth next to Jazz.

"A bit tight." Prowl stated, turning towards Jazz to keep his wings off of the berth to give them some more room.

"Tha's all right." Jazz stated, wrapping a servo around Prowl, slowly. "Lights, 10%"

Prowl vented. "Jazz, the light are still on at 10%. Are you afraid if the dark?"

"Nope." Jazz stated, a smug smirk barely visible in the barely lit room. "Makes it more...romantic, wouldn' ya' say?"

"Roma- Jazz. You know I won't interface with you, correct. And not just you, anybot who proposed this out of bonding." Prowl stated.

"Ah know." Jazz said gently. "An' Ah ain't tryin' ta change yer mind. One step at a time, right?"

Prowl vented, relieved. He nodded a bit as he felt himself pulled a bit more into the other warm body. It felt...nice, if not a bit awkward. Jazz didn't seem weirded out though, so why should he? He took a vent again, to relax himself. It did feel very nice, in the berth with Jazz, one of his servo's around him. His hand caressing and fiddling with his wing.

It was so very warm, too. So very...cozy. He wanted to stay awake, to enjoy it, but even Jazz seemed to be falling into recharge, as his gently motions were coming slower and less. Just before recharge completely took him, though, he felt the soft, warm feeling of Jazz's lips on his forehelm.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl vented as he tossed the finished data-pad into a growing pile by the desk. He pushed back his chair, and stretched out his wings. That chair was _not_ made for a Praxian in any way. He would be better of standing and doing the reports. Or maybe...

Prowl quickly grabbed a few of the pads yet to be done and his stylus and flopped down onto the berth, on his stomach plating. This was so much better! Why hadn't he thought of it before? He could get all of his work done, and be comfortable for once!

Now if only he could make this lock down feel less like house arrest. His tanks grinded, reminding him that Sideswipe should have been here a quarter of a joor ago with a cube for him. Where was that red menace?

OoOoOoOoO

"Oh, Prowl's gonna be so slaggin' angry!" Sideswipe mumbled as he hurried through the halls with a cube of electric blue energon.

Why, oh why had he fallen prey once again to the calling of the security cameras? It was such fun to watch Red Alert fritz when he couldn't see the corner of the right wall in the Rec. room! Of course, there was brig time, but would he really be sent to the brig when he had to babysit Prowl?

"Hey!" Ironhide shouted as he collided with Sideswipe, causing the thinner red mech o fall flat on his face. The cube of energon fell from his hands.

"Wacth where yer goin'!" Ironhide growled, scooping up the cube and thrusting it back in Sideswipes hands after the mech had been 'helped' to his pedes.

"Sorry, 'Hide." Sideswipe said hurriedly as he grabbed the cube and hurried away.

Ironhide turned away, sliding something into his subspace before walking away.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl vented as the door opened to reveal not Sideswipe with his energon, but Jazz.

"What's goin' on, mech?" Jazz asked as he practically skipped into the room and skillfully jumped into the chair, causing it to spin multiple times.

"Nothing worth commenting." Prowl stated, not even looking up from his data-pad.

"Do anythin' today?" Jazz teased, spinning the chair around by pushing off with his pedes.

Prowl scowled. "No."

"Planin' on doin' anythin' today?" Jazz asked, pushing off again and becoming nothing more but a white blur in the black seat.

"No."

"This is wha', yer third day o' lockdown?" Jazz asked, pushing off once again as his spinning started to slow down.

"My fourth." Prowl corrected. "And would you stop that?"

"Whadd'ya say?" Jazz asked, pushing off once more just to be an aft.

"Now."

"Spoilsport." Jazz mumbled as he let the chair slow down by itself. "Man, the rooms spinin'."

"Hmm. I wonder why." Prowl mused dryly.

Jazz chuckled as he wobbled to his pedes, and snuck back into the chair. Prowl shook his helm, and continued with his work. Jazz seemed quite taken by the simple chair, studying it's barely worn finish and padding. It was perfect, just enough padding to make it comfortable, but not too cushy.

"This is one comfy chair." Jazz stated. "No wonder you have one jus' like it in yer office."

Prowl snorted. "Take it. Take both of them for all I care."

"Yer kiddin', righ'?" Jazz asked.

Prowl shook his helm. "They are the most uncomfortable chairs I've ever sat in."

"Now Ah know yer teasin' meh." Jazz stated.

Again Prowl shook his helm. "I am not. It cramps my doorwings to sit in them for too long. Why do you think I'm on the berth and not the chair?"

Jazz nodded, understanding now. "Didn' think 'bout yer panels."

Prowl gave a single nod before returning to his work. Sideswipe rushed into the room, the blue cube in hand. He set it down on the desk, and quickly tried to hurry away again.

"Your late, Sideswipe." Prowl said coolly, sitting up on the berth and folding his hands on his lap. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry, Prowl." Sideswipe chuckled. "Just ran into a bot and started talking, you know how it goes."

"No, I don't." Prowl stated. "Talking, you say? To whom, may I ask?"

"Ironhide." Sideswipe said quickly.

"Hm." Prowl said, nodding his helm a bit. "You seem to like talking to day."

"Yep! Talking, talking, that's me! Almost as much as Blue!" Sideswipe stated in a sugary sweet voice that made one want to purge. He slowly inched towards the door.

"Then you wouldn't mind talking to Ratchet." Prowl stated, as Sideswipe continued to inch towards the door. "As he tells you your tasks for the day. That is, after you take the...revealing pictured of him down from the Rec. room camera."

"How did you-"

"Red Alert is a fast mech." Prowl stated. "And you need to be faster before Ratchet is angry at you for being late."

"Frag." Sideswipe grumbled as he raced from the room.

Jazz was near tears, laughing so hard after the door had been closed for a good five minutes. He sighed as he picked up Prowl's cube. He looked at it carefully, noticing it's lightning blue color. He turned it a bit, watching the liquid slosh about. He wondered what it tasted like.

"Jazz, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Prowl stated, not even looking up.

"Yer not meh." Jazz stated, putting the cube to his lips,feeling them tingle and burn just from the fumes.

"Jazz-"

Too late. Jazz had tilted the cube back and taken a huge gulp of it, as if it had been a cube of low grade. The cube was slapped down on the counter, Jazz's visor a blinding neon.

"Whew!" he shouted. "Tha's some powerful stuff!"

Prowl vented as Jazz went for another sip. "Jazz, that's mine. Plus, if you drink too much it'll make you sick."

"Ah won' drink al of it." Jazz stated like a rebellious youngling as he tipped it back again.

True to his word, he stopped after taking two or three more sips. His reserves were at 100%, no more, no less, and the cube was still three-fourths full.

"Aren't ya goin' ta finish it now?" Jazz asked.

"In a minute." Prowl stated. "I need to finish this report."

Jazz snorted and watched Prowl a bit. He spun the chair slowly halfway one way, and again the other. He shifted a bit as a rolling nausea started to bubble in his tanks. He swallowed once, as he felt the acidic mixture climb up a bit.

"Ugh."

"Is something the matter?" Prowl asked.

"Ah ain't feelin' too good." Jazz stated, slumping back in the chair a bit.

"Come lie down on the berth." Prowl vented. "I told you that energon would make you sick."

"Did not." Jazz said miserably as he flopped down next to the Praxian, who scooted over to make room for him. "Ah stopped once Ah got ta a hundred."

"The spinning probably upset your tanks as well." Prowl shook his helm. "You did it to yourself."

"Did not!" Jazz exclaimed, moaning and letting his helm fall back down as he put a hand over his tank.

"Whatever you do, do _not_ get sick on my bed, or you will regret it." Prowl threatened. Or the floor, for that matter. You know what?"

"Wha'?" Jazz mumbled, moaning as he felt the berth shift after Prowl left it.

"Here." Prowl said, his voice void of any emotion but annoyance.

Jazz smirked a bit as he accepted the waste bin offered, or thrust, at him. He humor was short lived, though, as his tank continued to swirl about. He rolled over on his side, moaning a bit.

"Jazz, making those noises are not going to get any pity from me." Prowl stated, working on his pad some more. "This is entirely self inflicted, and you deserve it."

"Thanks, mech. Love ya too." Jazz said dryly as he sat up and leaned over the waste bin.

Prowl stopped writing. "Are you really going to be sick?"

"Nah, Ah jus' like the way the bottom of this waste bin looks." Jazz stated.

His visor became gray as he shuttered his optics against the harsh artificial light, not helping his now pounding helm. He wasn't sure that his tank had ever hurt so much, and he could drink pretty heavy if a party got strong enough. He's had some pretty bad hangovers, some for days even, but nothing like this.

Prowl couldn't help but flinch at the gurgling retch Jazz gagged and then the tell-tale splatter in the waste bin. Jazz panted a bit, his vents amplified by the waste bin.

"Feel any better?" Prowl asked, his voice actually showing a bit of pity.

Jazz shook his helm as his frame tensed and he leaned into the bin more, preparing for the next volley of purges. It burned, worse then even unpurified high grade coming back up. It felt like a blow torch was being lit, and he was vomiting fire.

He moaned as his tank continued to swirl, and the bin splattered and sloshing with his tank's contents.

"Jazz, I think you might be ill." Prowl stated.

"No slag, Sherlock." Jazz snapped a bit, gagging but bringing nothing up.

"No, not like that. I mean I think you have a virus." Prowl explained. "And don't be so peckish."

Jazz grumbled a bit, just before the whitish liquid erupted from his mouth again. As gross as it seemed, that was wrong. It was supposed to be a greenish color, around chartreuse or turquoise.

"Ah think..." Jazz said breathily. "Ah think I'm g-gonna...pass out."

Prowl put a hand on his shoulder, holding him steady as the room spun for the larger, visored mech. Jazz protested as Prowl pushed him to his pedes, and them took much of his weight on his shoulder.

"I'm taking you to the infirmary." Prowl said firmly. "Ratchet is all ready waiting for us."

"Yer one fast mech wi' tha' comm. o' yers." Jazz mumbled as he smirked lopsided and stumbled.

Prowl tightened his grip on him as he used his free hand to open the door. He made sure Jazz had a tight grip on the waste bin, not wanting to be purged on by any means. Jazz moaned as he slid into a nearby medical berth, a white and red medic all ready fussing over him.

"What the frag did you do this time?" Ratchet asked as he sent a medical scanner over him.

"Nothin'! I jus' drank somma Prowler's cube is all." Jazz stated, taking a deep vent to keep down what energon was left in him.

"Primus." Ratchet vented as he looked at the statistics sent to him straight from the machine. "How did you manage to ingest quinine?"

"Isn't that toxic?" Prowl asked, sounding as surprised as the medic.

"Just to humans." Ratchet stated. "But I sure as the Pit wouldn't go around chewing on the stuff. Enough of it will kill a bot, a bit will only make him sick."

"Ah ain't even gone by a vat o' toxic waste." Jazz mumbled tiredly as he prepared himself both physically and mentally for another purge.

"Prowl...have you refueled yet?" Ratchet asked.

"No. Jazz started drinking my cube and then got sick before I could." Prowl answered.

"Have someone-No. On second though...Sideswipe!"

"Yes, sir?" a red mech asked skiddishly as he hurried into the room from Ratchet's office.

"Sideswipe, stop what you're doing and go get the cube of energon you brought Prowl this morning." Ratchet ordered.

"You mean I don't have to clean your office anymore?" Sideswipe asked hopefully.

"Nope, you can get right back on that when you get back." Ratchet stated.

Sideswipe sighed dramatically. Ratchet smirked.

"If you don't want to get the cube, I'll get it." Ratchet offered sweetly.

Sideswipe snorted. "At what cost?"

"Ah, you learn quickly." Ratchet smirked. "I'll get the cube if you keep an optic on Jazz."

Jazz took the moment to violently purge into his, er-Prowl's bin again. Sideswipe shuttered his optics from the sight, turned off his olfactories and audios, and raced from the room.

"Thought so." Ratchet stated as he moved towards a cupboard. A large, metallic scoop was taken from one drawer, and a bottle with a yellowish liquid in it. "Open up, Jazz."

"Nuh-uh." Jazz said firmly. "Ah ain't takin' nothin'."

"This'll help, honest." Ratchet promised, pouring some of the liquid into the spoon. "Now open up before I shove it down your throat myself."

"When ya put it so delicately." Jazz muttered as he sat up and opened his mouth, rolling his optics beneath his visor.

Ratchet stopped and smacked him in the helm, causing both the Praxian and the Polyhexian to wonder how he knew about Jazz's haughty optics. Ratchet quickly thrust the spoon into Jazz's mouth, and even tilted it to make sure that he got every drop of the liquid.

"The stuff tastes-"

"It doesn't have a taste." Ratchet stopped him. "So stop whining."

"Can ya at least tell meh what it was?" Jazz asked, lieing back down.

"Think of it as Syrup of Ipecac." Ratchet smirked.

"Wha'?" Jazz exclaimed. "Ah thought it was gonna make meh stop purgin', not induce it!"

"You have to get the toxin out of your systems." Ratchet stated. "It'll kick in in a few minutes."

Jazz vented heavily as he let his helm flop back into the cushy pillow. He could all ready feel his tanks rolling.

"Keep an optic on him, will you, Prowl?" Ratchet asked. "I'll be in my office if you need me."

"Shouldn't you be keeping an optic on him yourself?" Prowl asked.

"He doesn't really need me to help him purge, now does he?" Ratchet snarked.

"Nope, ya helped more then 'nough." Jazz mumbled, a servo over his visor.

Prowl vented a bit as he sat down in the backless chair next to Jazz's berth. Ratchet made his way to his office, leaving them alone.

"Prowler, Ah wanted ta ask ya somethin'." Jazz stated, his voice a bit garbled as half processed energon rose in his throat.

"Yes?"

"Ah wanted ta ask ya a few orns ago, but now Ah'll hav'ta ask ya 'fore I start purgin' mah guts out."

"I said yes, Jazz." Prowl stated.

"Prowler..." Jazz said slowly. "Wanna get bonded?"

Prowl froze a minute, and looked at the blue visor that looked right back. He shrugged one shoulder. "Sure."

Jazz pressed his mouth together firmly, and Prowl was afraid for a second that he was about to be purged on. That was, until Jazz's chassis started to vibrate and a snort came from his nose. Jazz burst out into a fit off giggles, flopping back onto the berth.

"Was that supposed to be some form of joke?" Prowl asked, feeling his spark sink a bit.

"No way! Ah meant every word o' it!" Jazz chortled. "But tha' has ta be the most unromantic proposal Ah ever say! An' ta think _Ah_ was the one tha' did it!"

"What was wrong with it? It was practical." Prowl stated. "I meant my part, you meant yours."

"Yeah, but Ah had somethin' more...special in mind." Jazz stated, swallowing hard.

Prowl picked up the waste bin and held it up for him, just as the other white mech leaned over and purged hard. The poor mech was at it for a good ten minutes before he flopped back with a shakey vent.

"Prowler..." he started in a wheezed, hoarse voice. "Ah think Ah love you."

"You think?" Prowl asked.

"It feels...dif'rent, though." Jazz mused, taking a short, wheezed vent.

"How so?" Prowl asked.

"It ain't all...tingly and fuzzy." Jazz stated. "Ah get tha' with you, don' get meh wrong, but it's not like ah've had with others. Ah've had strong warm and fuzzied with others but...Ah can see mahself with ya, for more then a ride in the berth."

"You mean, doing things together, both the good and bad?" Prowl asked, trying to help the tired mech find better words. "And not just a crush?"

"Exactly. Ah mean, you're frickin' holdin' a bin whole Ah barf! If that ain't love, Ah don' know wha' is." Jazz stated most seriously.

Prowl, despite himself, snorted in amusement. "Get some recharge."

Jazz vented as he lay back against the berth. He started to chuckle and laugh a bit again. "Ah-no- we must be crazy. Ah'm here, probably delirious an' all tha', propose to ya', and you say 'Sure' like Ah jus' asked ya' if ya' wanted meh to get ya' a cube of energon."

Prowl shook his helm. "I'm good. Do you want some energon."

Jazz gagged and threw a hand over his mouth. He retched once more before choking out. "Prowler! Yer sick, mech! Yer evil when ya wanna be."

Jazz fell silent, finally, and Prowl figured he fell into recharge. That thought was crushed, rather violently as Jazz croaked out from the berth.

"Prowler?"

"What, Jazz?"

"Mah tank 'urts." he moaned.

"I know it does." Prowl stated, trying to comfort him.

"Naw, not like tha'. I mean, it does, but Ah'm sore too." Jazz mumbled pitifully.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Can ya lay down with meh?" Jazz pleaded.

Prowl vented." Will that really help you any?"

Jazz nodded, his visor gray. Prowl vented as he glanced around the room before getting up and slipping into the berth beside the large mech. Despite size, though, Jazz managed to curl himself smaller then Prowl and cuddle into the Praxian's stomach. He sighed, very wheezed and choked.

Prowl listened quitly, to the strained vents of Jazz. Each breath was soft, but forced. It squeaked and wheezed like as asthmatic.

"Jazz, are you having trouble venting?" Prowl asked.

Jazz nodded against Prowl's warm side. Prowl sent a ping to Ratchet, who was soon by the berth and scanning Jazz.

"Prowl, I need you to get up a second." Ratchet said, shooing the Praxian away before rummaging though a drawer.

"What's wrong?" Prowl asked.

"Jazz is having and allergic reaction." Ratchet answered. "His systems are more sensitive to the quinine then I thought."

"Will he be all right?" Prowl asked, his worry growing after Jazz choked and coughed a bit.

"He will be." Ratchet stated as he took out small, clear plastic cubes. "All right, Jazz. Hold still. This'll be a bit uncomfortable, bu it'll help."

Jazz nodded and then held still as Ratchet carefully put the tubing up his olfactories. He snorted out once or twice, not liking the foreign feeling of rough plastic in his nose. He had to admit, though, it help quite a bit. He coughed hard, a few times though, as the olfactory tubing was doing nothing for his swelling throat.

"Jazz, open up your mouth and stick out your glossa." Ratchet ordered, gently though.

Jazz did so, and the medic shone a pen light into his mouth. He shook his helm.

"His throats too closed for another tube. I'm going to give him an injection and then a breathing mask."

"An injection? Of what?" Prowl questioned as Ratchet started to full a shot with a clear liquid.

"Epinephrine. It may be human, but an allergy is an allergy." Ratchet stated. "Just a quick jab, Jazz."

"Ah don-" Jazz choked. "Ah don' mind."

The shot was quick, the whire mech not even flinching. A clear mask was slipped over his helm, and his visor dimmed as he shuttered his optics for recharge.

"Hold on, Jazz." Ratchet started, giving him a little shake. "Before you go to sleep, I need for you to retract your visor."

"Whatever." Jazz mumbled as he slid back the blue piece, it tucking away neatly in his forehelm.

Prowl found himself nearly hypnotized by that set of optics. They were beautiful, at least, to him anyways. They were a perfect shade, the just right combination of sky and robin's egg blue. They were bright, though fuzzy.

"Great." Jazz rasped, a cheesy grin on his tired face. "Now Ah can't see nothin'."

"You wont need to." Ratchet stated. "Because you're going to go to recharge now."

"Are you going to put him out?" Prowl asked.

"Don't have to." Ratcet replied. "He's all ready asleep. Don't let anyone wake him. He'll feel better when he wakes up. Call me when he does."

Prowl nodded, and watched as the medic left once again for his office. Again, alone with the Polyhexian, he glanced around the room to be entirely sure that he was truly alone with him. Once positive, he got up and slid into the berth next to him. Jazz shifted comfortable, and tucked himself into Prowl's chassis and abdominal plating. Prowl took Jazz's example, and fell into recharge himself.

* * *

Author's Note- And the plot thickens. Near the end! My longest chapter yet! Shy of 6000 words by exactly 150 words! (not including Author's Note)


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Klik- under a second-second

Breem- 8.3 minutes-minute

Joor- 6 hours-hour

Orn- 2 weeks-day

Groon- 7 years-month

Vorn- 83 years-year

* * *

"It is good to see you up once again, Jazz." Optimus acknowledged the white mech and motioned for him to sit.

"Ah agree." Jazz smirked, taking the seat.

Prowl vented inwardly. Here they were again. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Smokescreen, Bluesteak, Ratchet, Optimus, Jazz, and himself; all seated at the meeting room table simply because one mech was after one bot.

"It seems that it is not safe for Prowl even in his own room." Optimus stated, launching the meeting.

"Agreed." Smokescreen stated.

"Um..." A timid voice came from a chair a few away from Prowl. "Don't mean to interrupt, but I wanted to make sure something was clear."

"Yes, Sideswipe?" Optimus asked.

"I'm not in trouble, am I? I mean, I was the one that gave the cube to Prowl but I still-"

"For Pete's sake." Ratchet grumbled. "No, you're not in trouble, Sideswipe. You didn't try to poison Prowl, did you? Now shut up before I do it for you."

Sideswipe immediately quieted down, his composure completely relieved. Prowl could see Jazz smirk and knew that he was rolling his optics beneath that visor.

"Now, as I said, Prowl is not safe here." Optimus started once again.

"Are you suggesting sending him from the _Arc_?" Smokescreen questioned.

"It is an option." Optimus stated.

"But...where would you send him?" Bluestreak asked, door wings slumping at the thought of his brother being sent away.

"Ah got an idea." Jazz stated, sitting forward in his chair and resting his folded hands on the table. "Keep tha' an option, though."

"Anything you have to contribute will be helpful, Jazz." Optimus said, motioning for the Polyhexian to continue.

"Ah think Prowl could stay 'ere on the ship." Jazz said. "We jus' move 'im about, an' don't tell nobody where he is tha' day."

"You mean, have Prowl reside in a different section of the _Arc_ every day, and keep his whereabouts a secret?" Optimus asked.

"Yes 'sir." Jazz nodded. "Move 'im around as much as need be. We'd have ta' bring 'im 'is work an' fuel, but that'd be a given anyhow."

"That sounds better than sending Prowl away." Bluestreak stated, door wings perking up.

By the way Smokescreen held his wings, it was quite obvious that he liked this plan as well. Prowl remained neutral and unreadable, simply stating that he would do what the others decided upon.

"I say we should let Jazz carry out his plan." Ratchet stated.

Optimus nodded, and received equal answers from the Twins. That being settled, all that remained was finding a place for Prowl for his first day of hiding.

"Why don' ya hang with meh?" Jazz suggested, in more ways than one.

Prowl felt his face heat a bit, but was able to keep from blushing. His door wings, though, gave him away to his brothers. They twitched once before giving a small flap, and heat radiated from them a bit. Enough for Smokescreen, who was sitting beside him, to deduce what was going on.

: Gonna have ta' get used ta' it : Jazz stated over a private comm to Prowl.

: I suppose : Prowl returned.

The meeting room slowly emptied, four bots remaining seated as the others left. No sooner had the door closed behind Optimus Prime did Bluestreak practically leap from his seat and lean across the table, pedes no longer touching the floor.

"Why didn't you tell us?" he exclaimed.

"I told you-"

"Don't play dumb, Prowl." Bluestreak interrupted. "It's written all over your face! You and Jazz! I mean, when did you two finally decide to start dating?"

"We ain't datin'." Jazz interrupted, the gray mech turning his helm but still remaining on the table.

"Courting?" Smokescreen tried.

"Bondin'." Jazz smirked at the pointblank faces he got from two non-white Praxians.

"Bon-huh?" Bluestreak stammered, his processor failing him in words.

"You must tell me how you do that." Prowl stated. "I have never been able to get Bluestreak speechless."

"I-Hey!" Bluestreak grumbled, finding his glossa once again.

"Bonding?" Smokescreen voiced the word going on in a loop in his processor. He turned towards his older brother, looking for any signs of Prowl developing a sense of humor. Seeing none, he slapped him on the back. "Didn't know you had it in ya."

"B-bonding? With Jazz?" Bluestreak exclaimed in a way that made said mech scowl.

"An' what's wrong with meh?" Jazz asked, folding his servos across his chassis.

"Nothing!" Bluestreak stated, raising his servos in the air, having gotten off of the table. "But, you and Prowl? I mean, not exactly the match made in the Well, if you know what I mean."

"No, ah don't think ah do." Jazz stated firmly. "It's not like we go at each other, rippin' out each other's throats an' all tha'."

"Well, no, but...you two are completely opposite! I mean, you're the life of the party, Prowl's the one ending it. You like loud music, and Prowl...just doesn't like music. You can't sit still for reports, Prowl can't get up from them. You-"

"Ah think ah've heard enough." Jazz stated, putting his hand over the younger mech's mouth to muffle the noise. Angered grunting came from his quickly moistening hand. He jumped back. "Gross! Did ya jus' _lick_ meh? Prowler?"

"Yes, Jazz?" Prowl asked, his face completely red from Bluestreak.

"_When_ we get bonded, we're movin' far away!" Jazz said firmly. "As far away from Blue as possible. Yer fam's nuts, Prowler."

"Thanks." Smokescreen said pleasantly.

"Do _you_ have any objections to our bonding?" Prowl questioned, sending a withering look at the youngest.

"Me?" Smokescreen asked. "Nah."

"Why do ya sound so danged pleased?" Jazz asked.

"Because." Smokescreen started. "As Bluestreak stated, you two are the complete opposites. In chemistry involving science, opposites attract. In relationship chemistry, opposites blow each other up. I make a pretty good bonding counselor, so you two will keep me in business for quite some time."

Jazz vented. "We're movin' away from Smokey too."

"I agree." Prowl said with a slight nod and an amused, playful look in his optics.

As much as Bluestreak would hate to admit it, Prowl and Jazz did make a good couple. While Prowl would be taken away from him, in a way, Prowl would be happy. He was loosening up some, now.

"I guess it might work." Bluestreak sighed.

"Might?" Jazz laughed.

"Okay, could." Bluestreak said.

Jazz shook his helm and grabbed Prowl's hand. He jerked the mech from the seat roughly, smashing his faceplates into a heated kiss. Prowl's optics widened and he tried to squirm away, but Jazz's grip was just too tight. Also, he found himself melting under it.

"Ack!" Bluestreak exclaimed, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to be sick!"

Prowl started as a hand squeezed a part of him that he knew should not be touched in public. Smokescreen burst out with a honking laugh as Jazz's grip tightened a bit more on the eldest brother Praxian's _aft_.

"No more!" Bluestreak pleaded. "Please, no more! You two are great together! Perfect! A match blessed by Primus! Please, just stop defiling my processor!"

Jazz noisily retracted his mouth from Prowl's, a popping, sucking noise snapping as they untwined their faces. Bluestreak moaned again as Jazz laughed. If Prowl wore human clothing, he would be pulling at his collar right now, his face and neck more red than Sideswipe with too much polish.

"Tha' was hot." Jazz purred.

Prowl cleared his throat, finding his pedes very interesting. Smokescreen snickered as Bluestreak shook his helm, trying to rid himself of the thoughts.

"Frag it! I'm going to need a brain bleach!" He moaned.

"Ah'm sure Ratch'll love ta' help ya with tha'." Jazz stated. "All ya have ta' do is explain it to him an-"

"I'm never repeating this to anyone!" Bluestreak exclaimed. "This is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I'm going to have bad dream cycles forever!"

"Ah could always cancel those memories out." Jazz offered. "Prowler and ah could interfa-"

"No!" Bluestreak screamed as he ran from the room.

"Smokey?" Jazz asked.

"Yes, Jazz?" Smokescreen asked, already knowing where this was going.

"Blue's gonna need your shrinky stuff." Jazz stated.

"I am not a shrink." Smokescreen grumbled as he rose from his seat. "I'm a psychologist! I have a degree and everything."

"Ya got a degree sayin' yer a shrink?" Jazz asked, snickering as he was violently shoved aside from a PO'd blue and red Praxian.

"That went well." Prowl murmured awkwardly.

"Sure did." Jazz agreed. "Let's go move somma yer stuff inta mah room, 'kay?"

Prowl didn't have a choice as he was pulled away.

OoOoOoOoO

It had been rather tiring, getting moved about all over creation. The first day and night had been in Jazz's room. Sadly, they had been too tired to bond. The next night was with his brothers, and the third night was in the Twins room. That had not been fun in the least bit. (Sideswipe snored and Sunstreaker talked in his sleep)

Right now, though, he was spending the day in Optimus' office. The CO wasn't there right now, leaving Prowl all to himself.

Taking up another data-pad, he continued his work. He sat on a stool, leaving Optimus' big chair alone. It's not that he didn't want to sit in it, he had tried. Optimus chair was said to be very comfortable, but the bot who had said that must not have had door wings.

The chair was so tall that he could not pop his wings over the top of it, and thus had to settle for a little stool Jazz had been able to sneak out of the infirmary for him. Not the most comfortable seat, but it worked.

There, another pad done. Only...an infinite amount left. With a bored vent, he reached for another. His pile of 'done' pads had grown quite large. Optimus was not going to be pleased with how much work he was going to have to review, not that Prowl cared.

His work was terribly disturbed when he was thrown from his seat, objects rattling about and crashing to the floor. The walls shook and a crack worked its way from the base board to the middle of the wall.

: Prowl, are ya alright? : A hurried voice came over the comm.

: Fine, Jazz. Wheeljack fail at another experiment? : Prowl asked, picking himself up out of the rubble and ignoring the sharp pain in his door wings. It wasn't that bad, though, so the injury probably wasn't that bad either.

: No, it wasn't Wheeljack : Jazz answered. : The explosion came from yer office :

Prowl was already leaving Optimus' office as he turned the hall to get to his own. It was only a little ways down the turned the hall to see the door completely gone, the wall nothing more but a pile of rubble. In the midst of the orange debris, a red figure groaned.

"Primus," Prowl gasped, hurrying to go clear out the Weapon's Specialist.

"Prowler? What' ch'ya doin' 'ere?" Jazz asked as he went to the Datsun's side.

"Ironhide's buried." Prowl said, falling to his knees to dig better.

Jazz hurried to help. More bots came, Optimus and Ratchet, and Wheeljack and Bumblebee. The red mech was soon dug out and hefted to his pedes, which immediately gave out. Ratchet helped him sit down against the wall. His red armor, usually bright but not Sunstreaker so, was scuffed badly, and marked and scratched terribly. A large, leaking dent caved in the right side of his helm.

"That's a nasty bump you've got there." Wheeljack stated as he started to help Ratchet in minimal repairs that could be made right there in the hall.

"Can you tell me who I am?" Ratchet asked, scanning the bot.

"Ratchet, who else?" Ironhide grumbled.

"What's today's date?" Ratchet asked next, straightening out a crooked pede.

"Tuesday." Ironhide smirked.

"I'd slap you if you didn't have that big dent already." Ratchet grumbled. "Go through your processor and make sure you remember all your codes and the like."

Ironhide fell silent, his processor audibly whirring as he went through typical codes and then moved onto the larger, and more secretive ones that came with rank. His optics suddenly widened in horror as his processor blanked on a certain point.

"I can't remember!" He exclaimed, frantically trying to scramble up to his pedes.

"Calm down." Ratchet ordered, both he and Wheeljack holding him back. "Can't remember what?"

"My access codes!" Ironhide cried out frantically. "To the armory and security room!"

"Sensitive stuff." Wheeljack commented. "Don't worry. We'll get you your codes back, though."

"Ya sure?" Ironhide asked warily. "Why can't I remember?"

"'Cause ya got a nasty whack to the skull." Jazz commented, smacking his fist against his hand to stress the point he was making. "Don' worry none, though. Ratch'll fix ya all up an' get those codes back to ya."

Ironhide vented as he was helped to his pedes. He leaned heavily on his supporters, groaning weakly.

"What's wrong now?" Ratchet asked.

"Dizzy." Ironhide moaned before becoming dead weight in Wheeljack and Ratchet's servos.

"Is he alright?" Bumblebee asked worriedly as the medic and inventor/bomb specialist carted the red mech away.

"He will be." Optimus assured the youngling before heading off after them himself. Ironhide was more than a bodyguard; he was his closest and oldest friend.

Bumblebee nodded and turned. "Hey, Prowl, you're injured too."

"I am?" Prowl asked, slightly surprised.

"Your door wing's torn." Bumblebee pointed.

Prowl suddenly felt something sticky and warm trickle down his servo. He looked down to see a trail of energon blood work its way down to his hand. He craned his neck to look at the wing, swinging it around to try and catch sight of the injury.

"Don' move it." Jazz ordered as he took hold of the wing. "It makes it worse."

"It can't be that bad." Prowl stated. "My wings are sensitive, and I don't feel a thing."

"Yer in shock." Jazz said firmly. "Sit down."

"Right here?" Prowl asked, feeling a bit lightheaded. "In all the rubble?"

"Mah rooms not far from 'ere." Jazz said, holding Prowl steady as he wavered a bit. "Can ya make it tha' far?"

Prowl nodded, his vision playing tricks on him. For a moment there, it looked like the room had been spinning. He felt Jazz's grip instinctually tighten.

"Do you need help?" Bumblebee asked with a slight tilt of his helm.

Jazz shook his helm. "Thanks for the offer, lil' Bee, but ah got this."

"Alright. I'll go see if Optimus needs anything." The youngling stated before hurrying off towards the med-bay.

"Steady as ya go, Prowler." Jazz said as he helped the Praxian past some rubble, holding him steady as he tripped over a piece of debris.

"Shouldn't we clean up this mess first?" Prowl asked, casting a sidelong glance at the dust and rubble filling the hall like ancient ruins.

"A crew's already comin' ta take care of it." Jazz stated. "Ya got a nice view o' the hall, though."

Prowl snorted, his composure more lax when his frame was in shock. Jazz continued speaking even if Prowl didn't answer, just to keep him alert.

"Too bad yer chair's blown ta' bits, huh?"

Another snort. "Good riddance."

Jazz chuckled, giving Prowl a little push when more of the Praxian's weight went onto him. "Stay awake, now."

"I'm fine." Prowl said, a bit breathily as they neared the sleeping quarters of the _Arc_.

Prowl could have found his way in his sleep. Six doors down, turn left, four more doors and turn right. Type in the access code, and step inside.

Jazz pushed Prowl down on the foot of the recharge berth. "Sit still now while ah get some supplies."

Prowl nodded as Jazz started to rummage through some drawers. He smirked to himself, knowing just how messy they were. The only thing organized in here was his album collections, cassettes, and DVD's.

Jazz had every stereo system known to man, and then some. He possessed a DVD player, a portable record player, and a boom box with a port for cassettes. He even had salvaged a Cybertronian up loader, a device that played the music directly into the bot's helm that plugged into it. It had taken awhile to fix, but to Jazz, it was well worth it.

The mech also owned at least one album from every singer or artist up to that time. Jazz had even surprised Prowl with some of the music he owned. Take two Sunday's ago, for instance. Prowl had walked in on Jazz listening to some gospel music. When asked why he was listening to it, he had received a simple answer.

"It's Sunday, Prowler!"

And another time when Jazz had been listening to something classical. He had been sitting on a small couch he had stolen from the Rec. room (please, don't ask), visor offlined and pedes crossed in the air as he tapped on foot on the oxygen molecules. Without a word, he had motioned for Prowl to sit down with him, and both had fallen into recharge before the last notes of music had disappeared and the cassette stopped.

"Hold still now." Jazz ordered. "This might sting."

Prowl nodded, turning so that Jazz didn't have to reach across to get at him. "How bad is it? I honestly can't feel it."

"It's not terrible." Jazz stated. "But enough that if Ratchet caught sight of it he'd be pretty upset."

"I see." Prowl said.

"This hurt at all?" Jazz asked, pressing a clean rag of a stinging antiseptic to the open, bleeding wound.

Prowl shook his helm. "I can barely feel the rag."

Jazz chuckled dryly and shook his helm. "Yer in shock, alrigh'."

Prowl hummed a bit as an answer. He sat still as Jazz carefully dabbed the wound a bit more. After a few minutes had passed, Prowl jerked and hissed a bit.

"Tha' hurt?"

"Yes." Prowl gritted. "I don't think the sensors there are numb."

"I guess this'll 'urt a bit, then." Jazz stated, pressing the rag onto the section of wound that had stung Prowl.

Prowl shifted, but bit his glossa to keep from making any kind of pained noise. He did vent out in relief, though, when Jazz switched out the antiseptic for a woven bandage. He carefully wrapped up the torn section of the wing, holding it at the joint with one hand to keep it still.

"This has Whiplash's des. written all over it." Jazz stated, his voice angered, but his hands still gentle.

"Whiplash didn't hurt me. It was the explosion." Prowl said, relaxing a bit under the gentle hold.

"Is yer processor rattled too?" Jazz asked. "Who do ya think planted the bomb?"

Prowl hummed and nodded. His wing had been long since bandaged, but Jazz continued to fiddle with it, tickling the edges of it, and stroking it lengthwise. Prowl felt something vibrating inside of him, radiating from his throat. He started a bit, finding that a _noise_ came with it.

Jazz chuckled softly. "Ah didn' know ya purred, Prowler."

"Neither did I." Prowl said breathily, his words even purred.

Jazz laid a hand on Prowl's shoulder, and applied pressure.

"Jazz?"

"It's alright." Jazz said gently, laying down himself as Prowl slowly went horizontal. "Ah'll go slow. Ah won't hurt ya, promise."

Prowl could only manage a nod. Jazz was sliding closer, encouraging Prowl with his hand to slide towards him as well. Prowl's door wings had never felt better, even with the gash. Jazz's gentle motions on them had them numb and tingly in a good way, a way that fogged up his processor with the simple pleasure. He felt bad, though, being the only one having soothing touches.

Swallowing down pride and nervousness, he reached out with one hand and gently brought it up Jazz's free servo. He halted halfway, his digits just barely brushing against the crock of Jazz's servo.

"Is this...all right?" He asked, feeling as if he needed permission to touch in this way.

Jazz chuckled a bit, nuzzling at a cable in Prowl's neck. "Ya don' need ta' ask, mech. It feels nice."

The rest of his servo was stroked, and went up the white neck and ghosted on the end of the visor. His digits had barely tickled the edges of it before a sharp whirring and a click sounded, and the visor was gone. Prowl froze, looking into the soft blue optics beside him. He had never seen the mech's optics before, not in this way, at least.

"Jazz." Prowl said, his purring had ebbed off a while ago. "Your optics."

"Hazy, Ah know." Jazz finished.

"Are b-beautiful." He stumbled over the word, not knowing how it was going to be received.

A dazzling, soft smile graced the Polyhexian's face. He cupped Prowl's face, his fore helm pressed against Prowl's. He tilted his own helm to the right, and engulfed the others mouth with his own.

Prowl swore that he melted. His wings were gone, nothing more than drippy puddles on the berth. His frame must have suffered the same fate. Jazz broke the kiss off after a few breems.

"Dang." He panted. "Who knew that ya could kiss like tha'?"

Prowl felt his faceplates heat up a bit, his white face reddening. Jazz laughed, still breathy.

"Don' be embarrassed. Yer real good at it." Jazz moved closer. "Are ya ready for this next part?"

"What part?" Prowl asked.

Another whirr and Jazz's chest plates began to separate. He stopped them, though, only allowing a bit of light to peep out.

"Oh." Prowl said breathily, more of a gasp.

"Too soon?" Jazz asked, a bit of disappointment not concealed in his voice.

Prowl bit his bottom lip, not seen by Jazz. He in took deeply, but silently. He shuttered his optics.

_"Open up." Came the lustful, seductive whisper._

_"My, what a pretty spark you have." Whiplash commented as he slid back his own chest plates to merge with Prowl._

_"I know you want me. Your own spark is coming for me despite your attempts."_

_"I'd love to hear you scream my name." He whispered._

_Scream for me._

_'No!'_

Prowl took in one more deep intake before swallowing and quickly sliding open his chassis. He was panting heavily, but seemed to calm down once his chassis was once open.

Jazz let a few breems pass, letting Prowl regain himself. He slid his own chest plates back and retracted them, letting the Datsun look at his own glowing, pulsating, swirling spark.

"Ya ready?"

Absolutely. Most assuredly. Completely. Totally. Without doubt. Without question.

"Yes." Came the barely there answer.

Just like the first time, tendrils went out, brushing against each other. Prowl's were more drawn back, both trying to merge and trying to hold back. Jazz was gentle and slow, letting Prowl take little steps forward. Jazz let Prowl press into him more, let him draw back uncertain. He kept on hand on the injured door wing, keeping it still. He used his other hand to caress different parts of his frame.

"It's all righ', Prowler." Jazz said after Prowl's spark once again drew back after a near merge.

"I-I'm sorry." Prowl said, his optics closed and chin to his upper, non-split chest.

"Jus' take yer time." Jazz said, not as much as a hint of impatience in his voice.

Once again, Prowl's spark reached out. Jazz's spark leapt -metaphorically- as one tendril wrapped around, and then the next.

_Your own spark is coming._

Jazz inwardly sighed as Prowl drew back, quickly. He rubbed a flattened hand on the back and door wing as pure disappointment and fear _of_ disappointing showed clearly on the Datsun's face.

"I-" Prowl sighed, shaking his helm.

It was too obvious that Prowl wanted this, badly. Jazz, too, wanted to bond. He pulled Prowl as close as possible, closing any gap between them. Both sparks resided in their owners, not moving at all but to beat in an almost pert rhythm. Nearly completely in sync except Prowl's beat a bit too fast.

"How 'bout _ah_ start the merge?" Jazz suggested gently. At the others hesitation, he continued. "Ah'll go nice 'n slow, an' if ya get uncomfortable at all, scared, or jus' can' handle it, ah'll stop."

Prowl nodded a bit. "A-all right."

Just as he promised, Jazz's spark slowly slid forward. One tendril reached out to Prowl's spark, encouraging the little yellow, glowing string out more. Slowly, Jazz's thicker, stronger one began to wind its way around Prowl's, making his curve into its way.

Jazz stopped, letting Prowl take a breath. He could tell that it was hurting Prowl a bit, terrible thoughts swarming through his helm. He could see it in his optics. After it seemed Prowl had regained control, he continued, a second tendril doing the same as the first, and then a third.

Prowl started as Jazz started to pick up speed on the third, going faster than a snail's pace.

"Wanna stop?" Jazz asked, keeping the tendrils connected but ready to release them at a moment's notice.

Prowl vented shakily and shook his helm. Jazz continued, starting slow and going faster as Prowl gained more courage. Before Prowl knew it, both sparks were completely intertwined, pulsating in perfect rhythm. Tendrils were leading back to their owners, but the actual sparks were twisted together in the closed gap between them.

Prowl felt Jazz pushing into him, the bond slowly forming. It took two to bond, though, and Prowl reached back. They felt it click into place, like a key in a lock, or two puzzle pieces.

-'I feel ya, Prowler'-

Jazz smiled as he felt Prowl's surprise of hearing his voice, kind of. It was more like _feeling_ the words.

-'The bond is finished'-

-'Nuh-uh. It ain't never finished, only gets stronger from 'ere'-

Prowl was flooded with the love and affection of Jazz, and knew that he must have been sending the same. He was going to have to learn to control it sooner or later, but not now.

On top of the love and affection from Prowl, Jazz also felt Prowl laughing inwardly.

-'Wha's so funny?'-

-'You still have an accent, even in the bond'-

-'Ah can't help tha'-

-'I know you can't'-

Anything else that was wanted to be said was instantly forgotten as Jazz pulled into a heated kiss. Prowl shuttered his optics to mirror Jazz's. Never had he felt this way before.

As cheesy as it sounded, he had never felt more loved by a bot, more comfortable around a mech, or ever wanted to return the feelings so much.

OoOooOoO

"Hey, Smokey?"

"I know, Blue. I know." Smokescreen vented out, smirking all the while. "Jazz and Prowl are at it."

"Took 'em long enough." Bluestreak stated. "But, just for future reference, one of us needs to tell him the next time he wants to interface; he has to _block_ the bond! I was walking up the halls and got turned on while looking at a door. A door! And, I keep getting these fuzzy feelings. They're nice and all, but when I think about what Prowl and Jazz are doing, I want to purge my tanks."

"Blue, you can block the bond yourself." Smokescreen sighed. "What do you think I did to keep from getting heated?"

Bluestreak had a look on his face that said that his processor had suddenly clicked, and his face reddened in embarrassment. Smokescreen was able to tell the very second Bluestreak had blocked Prowl's side of the bond.

* * *

Author's Note- Nearly there! There might actually be only one more chapter to this story! I think this is my longest story so far.

Yes, Prowl and Jazz finally bonded. I don't think there will be a sequel to this story.

Shout out to Ratch again for Beta-ing! Tired, yet?

* * *

Ratchet171 – Nope, keep 'em coming!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Prowl onlined quickly, as usual. He sat straight up, ready for another day of hiding and work. He stopped and looked around, seeing that he was not in his room. That wasn't surprising, though, as he slowly remembered where he was.

And the night before. Oh, did he remember the night before!

White servos slunk around his middle, and he turned to see Jazz in half recharge.

"Go back ta' sleep, Prowler." Jazz mumbled.

"Jazz, I have work to do. I still have those pads from yesterday and-"

"Mute it." Jazz grumbled, yanking on Prowl a bit with sleepy, jerky movements that didn't have much force. "Lay back down, now, and go back ta' 'charge."

"I can't, Jazz." Prowl objected. "I'm awake now. I can't just go back into recharge."

Jazz muttered something Prowl couldn't pick up. Jazz yanked Prowl, hard, and flat on his back. Prowl bit his bottom lip to keep from gasping as he felt the injury he had sustained the day before in the explosion. Jazz didn't even care as he felt the annoyance and slight pain from the Datsun's side of the bond. He snuggled up into Prowl's side, sighing happily.

"Yer nice 'n warm." Jazz murmured as he hugged Prowl close, much to the mech's annoyance.

"Jazz, I need to get an early start on-"

"Later." Jazz muttered, becoming more awake. "Much later."

Prowl vented irritable. "Jazz, I'm not going to be able to go back to recharge. Just what do you propose I do while you snuggle my side?"

"Why don' ya scoot down some an' lemme snuggle the rest'a ya." Jazz suggested, in more ways than one.

"Jazz, its _morning_. How am I going to explain your paint scraped onto my...more intimate parts?" Prowl asked in a huff.

"We could shower ta'gether." Jazz murmured suggestively.

Prowl vented and shook his helm, covering his optics. He yelped in surprise a bit as Jazz suddenly flipped over and settled on top of him.

"I thought you wanted to recharge." Prowl stated, quirking an optic ridge.

"Nuh-uh." Jazz replied, wriggling a bit as he snuggled his chassis onto Prowl's. "Ah wanna be with ya."

Prowl's engines revved against his will, not which either cared. Chest plates were opened, and later, cod pieces removed.

OoOoOoOoO

Prowl vented as he went up a hallway, towards Optimus' office. Of course, he wasn't supposed to be out of his unsaid space, but what was the harm in delivering a data-pad? Besides, the halls were filled with tons of strong, fighting bots. The Twins, Cliffjumper, Huffer, Bumblebee, and Ironhide gathered about, Ironhide a bit more distant and seemingly in his own world.

He noticed a few snickers from said Twins as he walked by. It was obvious that his legs were a bit stiff by the way he was walking. Sideswipe winked at him, clicking his glossa twice as he passed. Just how fast do news travel around base? You would think it was run by a bunch of femmes, the way they gossiped.

He walked in a slightly waddled, stiff peded, slow, swaying way. It was barely noticeable, but for a mech who usually walked as if he had a stick up his aft, it was too obvious. He was so sore! But, it was so very worth it.

He knocked once, twice, thrice. After pinging his leader, the door was unlocked and opened.

"Prowl. I'm surprised to see you." Optimus stated. "Smokescreen had me believe that you and Jazz had taken the day off."

"The day- the aft." He muttered the last bit well under his breath. "No, sir. I came by to drop off these pads."

Optimus nodded and took the offered pads. "I hear congratulations are in order, correct?"

"I suppose." Prowl answered, face heating and trying hard not to shift. "Smokescreen?"

"Bluestreak, actually, although Smokescreen confirmed your bonding to Jazz." Optimus stated. "I hope that you and Jazz have many happy vorns together."

"As do I." Prowl replied. "I should probably go now, sir. Jazz will begin to worry if he sees me gone."

Optimus nodded and went to go back to his work, but stopped with his stylus halfway to his pad.

"Prowl."

Said mech stopped in his tracks, and turned in attention. "Sir?"

"Once you return, I suggest that you wash off before going out in public again." Optimus stated in a voice that was trying very hard not to laugh, even though it was trying to save the other from embarrassment. "You...have a bit of paint...on..." Optimus cleared his throat.

Prowl swore that he had _never_ reddened or heated up as much before. He nodded and hurried away before being dismissed, going at a near run right back to Jazz's berthroom before locking himself in the wash racks for a good hour. He gave no explanation, confusing a certain Polyhexian very much.

OoOoOoOoO

It had taken quite a bit of pleading and begging, something that Prowl was surprisingly good at, but he had finally gotten Jazz to consent. The feeling of amusement, mainly wiped out from annoyance and worry flooded Prowl's bond.

"Jazz, it is a simple _drive_." Prowl said to the racecar like sports car besides him.

"But Whiplash could be anywhere, Prowler." Jazz argued, sending out another sweep with his scanners.

"If what you think is correct, Whiplash is still aboard the ship." Prowl stated. "The safest place for me would be outside, away from base in that case."

Jazz grumbled. Something along the lines of, "do you always have to be so right?" Prowl ignored his ranting and put on a bit more speed. He'd been under lock down for a while now. He usually spent most of his time inside filing reports, but the mere fact that he wasn't a_llowed_ outside was enough for him to want to. He had been going stir craze, and needed to stretch his wheels.

"Wanna race, huh?" Jazz asked, going ahead by just a nose after catching up.

"Hardly." Prowl replied. "I am still under the set speed limit."

"How 'bout we set our own?" Jazz asked.

"Jazz." Prowl warned.

"Com 'on, Prowler!" Jazz pleaded. "Yer a police car. You can jus' pretend ta' chase meh."

"And what happens when the actual police come to assist me?" Prowl asked.

Jazz would have shrugged, had he been in bot mode. "I dunno, yer the smart one."

"I can see that." Prowl replied smartly.

The drive continued on for some minutes, playful banter going between the two bots. Jazz continued to send out a scanner every so often, but it all ways came back clear.

"Jazz, I've told you. You are being overpro-"

"Hey! Hey, wait up!" A much panted voice came from behind them.

Ironhide, in bi-pedal mode, came rushing up.

"'Hide?" Jazz questioned as he transformed. "Wha's wrong, mech?"

"They need ya back at base, Jazz!" Ironhide exclaimed.

"What's wrong?" Prowl asked, now in robot mode himself.

"They jus' need Jazz, now!" Ironhide exclaimed, accent a bit too thick. "Hurry, 'fore it's too late. Ah'll take care o' Prowl."

Jazz quickly turned to transform again when a cold hand clamped itself on his shoulder. "Don't Jazz."

-'Call base now'-

-'Prowl, what's'-

-'Call base _now_'-

"That's not such a good idea." Ironhide stated, accent gone. A gun was whipped out of his subspace, and pointed into Jazz's face.

"'Hide, wha's goin'-"

"That isn't Ironhide." Prowl said in a breathy voice.

"Correct, Prowl." A rapidly deepening voice said. "Maybe a bit too correct."

Like a hologram, Ironhide began to crackle and fizz. His bright red armor was quickly replaced with jet back, and his arm cannons were switched to grenade launchers. Blue optics melted to biting red, and his gruff face was replaced by a malicious smirk.

"Whiplash." Jazz growled, instinctively taking a protective stance before his mate.

"The one and only." Whiplash replied in a feral tone. "I have orders to offline any who get in my way. I ask you now to move or else you will suffer for it. It would be most logical for you to follow my advice."

"Logical mah aft." Jazz spat.

"Temper, temper." Whiplash chuckled. "That was your only warning. Now I'm afraid that I will have to-"

"Wait." Prowl gasped out, door wings trembling in uncontrolled emotion. He stepped out from behind Jazz. "Jazz is not in your way, now. It would be illogical to blast him now. It would go against your orders to offline those _in_ your way."

The gun never lowered. "I suppose you're right, but Jazz is a potential threat. Does that not stand as something in the way?"

Prowl stopped for a moment. "What if I promised to come with you, and Jazz promised to leave and not pursue?"

"That situation has less than a .001% chance of happening." Whiplash stated.

"That is still a chance, though." Prowl returned.

"Yes, but it would be illogical to go upon a plan with such little probability of working." Whiplash said calmly. "There is a 76% chance of me killing Jazz and then taking you."

"So low?" Jazz chuckled, even though he could practically smell the photon charge in the weapon before him.

"It is much higher than you think." Whiplash said. "It is illogical for me to be arguing with the enemy. Now is the time for action. Say good-"

Whiplash was never able to finish his sentence as Jazz suddenly ducked down and kicked his pedes out from under him. Grabbing his own weapon, he planted it very similarly to the way Whiplash had previously held him at gunpoint.

"Well now, seems ta meh the tables have been reversed." Jazz stated. "Ah suppose the logical thing would be fer ya ta surrender."

"On the contrary." Whiplash returned. "That would be a last resort, and I have so many resorts."

"Mute it." Jazz ordered, pressing his gun closer to Whiplash's face plates. "Answer meh this, mech. What'd ya do with the real 'Hide?"

"Oh, I can tell you that he's resting quite comfortable." Whiplash assured the mech as if he were having an afternoon tea with him. "I forced him into stasis, placed a spark dampener on him, and can tell you that he has found a nice little hiding spot on your _Arc_."

"Where, is, he?" Jazz annunciated.

"Oh, you'll find him...hopefully." Whiplash said, closing his optics and feeling distant vibrations coming closer. "Your back up is arriving."

"Save it, mech." Jazz stated. "Who do ya work fer?"

"Why would I answer that?" Whiplash questioned. "I doubt if I told you, it would help any."

"Ah think it'd help a whole lot more then ya think." Jazz stated.

As Jazz interrogated, Prowl found himself glued to the ground. Here, no more than four human feet away, was the mech that nearly defiled him. The mech that had been hunting him for months, now. A vibrating sensation in his door wings jarred him a bit from his stupor, the air vibrations telling him that the Autobots as backup were thundering up towards them.

Prowl watched as Whiplash squirmed a bit beneath Jazz's pistol. The tip of it glowed purple, sending violet and green shades up and down his black face.

"Jazz!" Prowl shouted as he watched two black pedes whip up and entangle themselves in Jazz's white ones.

Jazz fell to the earth with a heavy, dust flinging thud. He lost the grip on his gun, and heard it powering up again. He shuttered his optics as he heard a blast fire out in the dust filled air, and waited.

He snapped his optics up as a heavy thud nearly crushed his pedes. As the dust cleared, the black frame of Whiplash became blatantly clear. With a disgusted grunt, he pushed the frame off of him.

"No." Whiplash gasped out, his chassis heaving for air. "This can't-It's not logical! The chances of this happening was less than 50 percent!"

Jazz turned to look at Prowl, and found the Datsun nearly trembling as he lowered his acid pellet gun. Looking back at Whiplash, Jazz took his gun out of the loose black digits, his index still on the trigger.

"Frag." Prowl cussed, keeping himself out of shock.

"Wha'?"

"He's deleting his memory banks." Prowl said, observing the distant look in the far away optics.

Prowl knelt down next to his had been captor to try and evaluate something's about Whiplash, still choking and gasping as his ventilation shafts melted and his spark began to burn with acid. Jazz heard the mechanical whirr or plates moving and turned to see Optimus Prime, as well as Ratchet and Prowl's brothers.

"By the all spark." Ratchet breathed out at the fallen frame of Whiplash. "Did you-"

"Not meh." Jazz answered. "Prowler."

"Prowl?" Bluestreak asked, turning to look at his brother, still hunched over the black soon to be carcass.

"Shh." Prowl shushed harshly, earning a few odd looks. "Listen."

: Red Alert to Optimus Prime. We have been successful in loca- :

: Not now, Red : Optimus replied hurriedly as he snapped the comm. link closed. "Prowl, what is the meanin-"

"Shhh!" Prowl waved him off.

A small, barely noticeable, more felt then heard click sounded in the wind. Prowl motioned for Ratchet to come next to him.

"Ratchet, open him up." Prowl ordered, placing a hand on the partially melted armor of the black mech.

Whiplash tried to protest, only to find that his ventilation shafts were now gone and that the acid had corroded his spark enough for its beating to slow down. No amount of fight was going to get his spark beating again, and his optics shuttered and a wheezing gasp exited his vocalizer. His helm fell back, Prowl's lethally accurate acid pellet having done its job.

"You want me to cut him open?" Ratchet asked, a disgusted look on his face as well as mixed into his voice.

"Do it or I'll do it myself!" Prowl exclaimed.

"Prowl." Smokescreen started, coming forward. "It's over. Whiplash is gone. You don't need to-"

"Mute it." Prowl ordered, again repeating to Ratchet the demand to slice Whiplash open.

Ratchet vented as he transformed his hands into surgical blades, and slicing a thick incision through his armor plating and into his protoform. Energon mixed with the charred remains of his black frame, running dirty into the dust.

"Dear Primus." Ratchet exclaimed, optics wide as he peered into the cogs of the enemy.

"Jazz, get over here." Prowl ordered.

Jazz came, and immediately saw what Ratchet's shock was drawn from. The insides of Whiplash were not what he expected. He wasn't a medic, but he knew the basic Cybertronian biology that they made you take as a youngling. This definitely was _not_ a T-cog and tank, but the many intricate wires and inner workings of a highly lethal explosive.

"Ah ain't never seen nothin' like this." Jazz stated, falling to his knees.

"Can you diffuse it?" Prowl asked.

"Ah think so." The saboteur replied. "This is some complex stuff, though."

"Wait, Whiplash was a walking bomb? How didn't he blow up just walking around or recharging, or something?" Bluestreak exclaimed, prattling out of nervous habit, and just habit.

"It's only set to detonate if he offlined." Prowl said, his processor still whirring as he went through more and more statistics. "If he couldn't get what he wanted and died in the process, then he had hoped to at least take out something important."

Jazz vented as he slid a red wire out of its place, and pushed away a black one. With clawed digits, he went to snip a blue wire with his index and middle digit. His hand, though, was suddenly yanked out of the chassis.

"Don't." Prowl said, optics carefully scrutinizing the rigged guts. "That isn't the bomb."

"But it's the bottom one." Jazz stated. "See? The tops a dud, so that makes the bottom the real explosive."

"That's what he wanted you to think." Prowl stated. "Go back to the first one."

"But, Ah can see it's a fake." Jazz argued.

_Tick_.

"Jazz, it can't be. The second is meant to confuse you." Prowl returned.

_Tick_.

"What are the chances of it being a fake?" Optimus spoke up, having fully evaluated the situation in his processor.

Without hesitation, Prowl answered. "A ratio of 40 to 60 percent, sir."

Jazz huffed, knowing which statistic was which. He went to go cut the wire he originally intended to, and hesitated. He shifted to pick up the wire Prowl suggested, and let it slip from his digits unharmed.

"Dang it, Prowler." Jazz grumbled. "Now ya got meh second guessin' mahself."

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

"Um..." Bluestreak hummed. "He's going faster."

_Tick. Tick._

"Jazz, you have to cut one _now_." Prowl urged.

"Yeah, but which one?" Jazz returned hurried.

"The top one!" Prowl exclaimed.

Jazz growled as he picked the top wire back up, the bright red clashed severely with his digits.

"Here goes everythin'." Jazz vented as he turned his helm and snapped his clawed digits closed, like the blades of a scissors.

An audible hitch sounded from each ventilation shaft as the wire snap and frizzed for a second. A silence drew on for quite a while, as if expecting the bot to blow from their vocalizers.

Prowl took a vent in. "Told you."

"Really?" Jazz asked, swinging his helm to look at the black and white. "_That's_ what you say?"

"If he had blown because of the wrong wire, you could have told me the same." Prowl stated.

Jazz sputtered a moment, wagging his helm back and forth in irritation. Prowl's frame went lax as he suddenly realized _what _had just taken place. He took a vent in, letting his brothers place a hand on his shoulders.

"It's over." Jazz stated, voicing the phrase engraved in everyone's processor.

"What do we do with him now?" Bluestreak asked. "I don't want him back at base, and we can't just leave him here."

Prowl raised a hand to stop his future rambling. "I have an idea."

OoOoOoOoO

"Lord Megatron, something has sunk beside the ship. We have reason to believe that it is of Autobot origin." Starscream's voice pierced the rather quite underwater ship.

"Then go and retrieve it." Megatron ordered, venting.

"As you command." Soundwave monotoned, always never farther then an arm length away from his leader.

Soon a dripping wet, dark gray carcass was dropped at Megatron's feet like a cat's fresh kill. Megatron's faceplates pinched in disgust at the exposed and hacked apart wires.

"What is this?" Megatron demanded.

"A mech." Starscream answered in an obvious tone, earning him a sharp strike across the chassis.

"Alliance: Neither Autobot nor Decepticon." Shockwave stated, pointing at the atom imbedded on the mech's shoulders.

"I've seen that symbol before!" Starscream exclaimed, quite pleased on having the knowledge, and the fact that he could get an upper ranking officer in a heap of trouble. "I've seen it in Shockwave's lab before."

"You dare accuse _my_ choice guardian as a traitor?" Megatron threatened.

"I am only stating a fact!" Starscream stated, backing away a bit to avoid another blow.

"Soundwave." Megatron growled. "Send out a vid-com to Cybertron. There is something I need to clear up."

OoOoOoOoO

"Curses! Curses!" A robotic, purple cyclops shouted as he smashed is clawed fists into the screen monitor. "He was my last solider!"

A tiny red blip sat frozen on a screen, a holographic map of the United States, currently located somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. He turned to a map of Cybertron, also marked with three frozen red dots, one near where Epsilon used to be and one near the ruins of the Chrystal City, the other near Kaon.

With a growl, Shockwave quickly turned off both holographic projectors. The screen monitor was blaring at him, telling of an incoming call. It could only be one mech. He pressed the flashing orange button, the vid-screen fizzing a bit before bringing in an all too clear image of his deathly gray, bucket helmed leader.

"Lord Megatron, it is an honor to-"

"Is it, Shockwave?" Megatron questioned. "Is it really an honor, or is it a nuisance?"

"My lord?"

"Bring up the storage room security footage." Megatron ordered to a mech off screen, most likely the visored, emotionless cassette holder.

The screen fizzed again to bring up a well-lit storage room, a gray mech on the floor, his chassis sliced open and exposed wires sticking out from every which way.

"Well, you see, my lord, it kind a like this. You see..."

Author's Note- Fin! The End! 'Tis done! I'm so happy!

Did that end okay? All major points addressed and answered? Anything I need to fix?

Thank you all for your support, reviews and favorites. There will be no, I repeat, NO sequel or prequel to this story. Don't worry, though! I am far from through with Jazz and Prowl slashes!

I apologize for the wait. I've been sick for about the past week (non-contagious but really freakin' annoying!) I have to go to an ENT for my ears (not related to above, I think anyways) and I got in trouble with my mom and she took my laptop away for 5 whole days! ;-; ! I'm back now, but school starts tomorrow (July 15, 2013). I'm homeschooled and my mom is expecting baby number 5 (A BOY AT LAST!), so we're starting early in case she goes early (due in Sept) so we're not that far behind. (We usually start in Early/Mid-August.)

Thank you for beta-ing this, Ratch! I'm sorry it's taken so long. :(

Ratchet171 – Sorry it took me so long to Beta this. I received it a little over two weeks prior to now, but have been a bit preoccupied with some other matters. Great ending!


End file.
